


Child, Don't Follow Me Home

by Tina_Tambourina



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Coyote Ugly Type Bar, Everyone is over 21, F/M, Good Peter, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tina_Tambourina/pseuds/Tina_Tambourina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Co are working at Howl, THE bar in Beacon Hills, owned by none other than Peter Hale himself...</p><p> </p><p>Title From "Innocence" by Halestorm</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey All!
> 
> This is my first fic ever! I'm nervous and excited and hope you like it!!! Constructive criticism welcome but please be kind.
> 
> Also, I own nothing. I'm pretty sure Teen Wolf and all its lovely characters belong to Jeff Davis and MTV. I'm just playing in their sandbox.

A loud crash from behind startled Stiles out of his daydream, causing the empty tray he was holding to clatter to the ground. He bent and swiveled, trying to retrieve the tray and investigate the loud noise at the same time. He ended up connecting his head with the hardwood of the bar…and dropping the tray again.

Clutching the offending bump on his head, he scowled at the bar as a laugh rang out from behind him. He turned to see Scott standing there, his shoulders shaking with laughter at his best friend’s lack of coordination. Stiles turned his glare to Scott instantly cutting off his friend’s laughter. 

At Scott’s feet lay three heavy boxes covered in dust and thrown haphazardly onto the floor. Stiles suspected that they were the culprits behind the noise interrupting his quiet thoughts.

“Dude, what the hell?” he asked narrowing his eyes at Scott.

“Not my fault,” Scott answered him with a smirk that served to accentuate his crooked jawline, “I didn't know you’d be in here taking a nap.”

“I was NOT napping,” Stiles retorted, “I was thinking…”

“About?” Scott questioned.

“None of your business!” he replied.

“Seriously, Stiles, were you thinking about Lydia again? I thought you were over that, man. I mean she’s with Jackson, like with with him, you know.” Stiles felt the tip of his ears redden, because he had been thinking about Lydia but that didn't mean he had to let his best friend know.

“First of all, I have no idea what ‘with with’ means. Secondly, I was not thinking about Lydia…even though I still think she’s a fair-skinned-“

“warrior goddess with strawberry blond hair. Got it. What were you doing then?,” Scott queried, “Cause you definitely weren't cleaning behind the bar like you were supposed to.” 

“Nothing. I told you, I was thinking. Just wondering why Peter decided to have a concert here after all this time, is all. I mean this place’s been here for like, ever, and I don’t think they've had a band here in like what? Like a decade?” Stiles mused.

“Probably because his niece and nephew are the leads.”

“Wai-What? How do you know this?”

“Peter told Lydia and she told Allison and Allison told-“

“you, yeah, I got that. His niece and nephew? I didn't know Peter had any family, except…Oh my god, his niece and nephew? As in Laura and Derek?”

“Yeah”

“Laura and Derek Hale?”

“No, Stiles, Laura Bush and Derek Zoolander” Scott replied with a smirk.

“Was that sarcasm, Scott? I couldn't tell,” Stiles snarked, “And Laura Bush? Really, dude?”

“Whatever, man. Yes, Laura and Derek Hale, Peter’s niece and nephew.” Scott said, sighing

“But didn't they leave Beacon Hills after the fire? Why come back now?”

“I dunno man. I just know they've been living in New York and that they’re gonna be here tonight to play with their band.”

“Bro, that’s crazy! I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen them in forever. I mean, you remember the Hales. They were just so…beautiful”

“Laura or Derek?” Scott asked smugly.

“Shut up,” Stiles retorted, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck, “what’s with all the boxes, anyway?”

“Peter told me to bring them up from the basement. Wires or something they’re gonna need tonight. I dunno if they’ll even work anymore. They smell.” He added, crinkling his nose in disgust.

“Well better get back to it, lackey, before the boss man catches you taking it easy on the clock” He said, shoving Scott towards the door.

“Hey!” Scott protested, “I knew I should’ve applied to be waitstaff.”

“Nope, waitstaff is only for beautiful and charming individuals such as myself Scotty boy. Now run along”

“Beautiful and charming? Yeah I get that with Allison and Lydia but you…You’re just lucky Peter’s got a soft spot for you”

“Eww, get out of here. Shoo!” He said, snapping his towel at Scott’s ass.

His best friend shimmied out of the reach of the dishtowel laughing, stooping to pick up all the boxes in one go with strength you wouldn't think he had judging by appearance, and made his way out towards the stage. Stiles turned back to the bar, wiping it down like he was supposed to have been doing before Scott interrupted him. He drifted off into thought again, this time wondering what the Hales would be like after 10 years.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOO 

A few hours later saw all the employees of Howl running around trying to get everything ready. The owner and manager, Peter Hale himself, stood in the middle of the melee, ordering his staff around. His generally well-coifed person looked a little worse for wear since he’d pitched in to get the place ready. He was barely recognizable wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of his usual business get up.

“Alright, guys, bring it in,” Peter yelled to the staff. Everyone huddled together on the dance floor, that had been cleared in the middle of the bar.

“Tonight is the first time we’re having a live act in here in a couple of years. I’m not sure how I feel about it but as some of you have already heard, this band is kind of special. My niece and nephew are going to be in town for a while and they asked if their band could play here. I haven’t seen them in a long time so of course I said yes. Their mom wasn't just my sister, she was my business partner as well. I guess I’m doing it for her just as much as for them...So please, I need you all on your toes tonight. We've got a big crowd coming in.” He paused to look around at all them.

“We've got one hour. I need you all to clean up and get into uniform ASAP. Ennis has the door. Danny, Jackson, you two are behind the bar. Try to keep your shirts on tonight, ok? Scott, you and Greenberg are running barback and bussing. Lydia, Allison, Stiles-you three are waiting as usual. Ladies, heels on in 45. Stiles, I want you in the VIP area with the band and the VIPs before and after the show. Leighann will tend the bar for you. Wear the vest-I don’t wanna hear it, just wear it!”

Stiles closed his mouth with an audible click to swallow down his complaint. He hated the leather vest that Peter made him wear on special occasions. He guessed he couldn't really complain since the girls were expected to wear high heels while balancing drinks all night. Allison shot him a sympathetic look. She was familiar with his rant about wearing the abominable vest. He knew there was a reason he loved her.

“Alright,” Peter said, sighing before standing a little straighter, “let’s do this. Make me proud. Meet back here in 40 minutes.”

They all moved off to the staff quarters to get changed, talking amongst themselves. Stiles followed behind Scott to the men’s locker room. It reminded him of the locker room at the high school. Smelled just about as bad too. No sooner had the thought come into his head, Jackson’s shirt sailed through the air and landed on his head.

“Heads up, Stilinksi, let’s move” the blond called out.

“Oh shut it, Jackson, just because you work the bar doesn't mean you can boss everyone around,” Stiles grumped, “Why can’t you be like Danny? He doesn't try to boss anyone around and we all listen to him.”

“That’s because everyone loves me,” Danny smiled, showing off his dimples. It was true, everyone did love Danny, from his damn cherubic dimples and tan skin to his nice guy demeanor. He was the total opposite of his douchebag best friend. How they were even friends was a mystery to everyone, Stiles included.

“Damn right, Danny-boy” Jackson quipped, smiling a rare non-douchey smile at his best friend.

Stiles turned to Scott, rolling his eyes dramatically. Scott had already pulled off his sweaty jeans and t-shirt and was on his way to the showers. Stiles hated those damn showers but he was a sweaty disgusting mess and he knew Peter would be pissed off if he didn't look presentable, especially since he was working the VIP area tonight. Grumbling under his breath, he reluctantly made his way to the showers.

XXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

Less than 20 minutes later there was a knock on the door.

“You boys decent in there,” the voice of their assistant manager, Leighann, called through the door.

“Come on in,” Jackson yelled back even though in truth most of them were, at best, only half decent.

The door pushed in hesitantly and Leighann’s head appeared. She took a quick look around at the boys in varying stages of dress before turning her eyes to the floor, a blush creeping into her cheeks despite her brown skin.

“Christ, Jackson, you and I are gonna have to have a talk about what decent means one of these days,” she said to the floor, “Stiles, Peter wants you to come to his office when you’re done.”

“Sure thing, Leigh,” Stiles replied, grabbing the black leather vest from his locker “I’m almost done. Just gotta put on the damn vest.”

“Oh come on, Stiles, it’s not that bad,” Danny said from where he was wearing an identical vest with no shirt underneath. So much for keeping his shirt on.

“Easy for you to say, Danny, when you look all like that” he gestured towards Danny’s well chiseled body.

Danny laughed and turned back to Jackson who was also smirking. Rolling his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. He made his way towards the door, bumping Scott’s shoulder on the way out.

“I’ll see you out there, ok” He said to Scott, who was pulling on a tight black t-shirt to match his black jeans and black and white sneakers. Scott nodded enthusiastically and Stiles slipped out the door.

Leighann was waiting for him outside, with a smile on her face.

“That vest looks pretty good on you, Stiles. I don’t know why you hate it so much.”

“Ugh! Are you kidding? Who even wears leather vests? And like, its so freaking tight. I’m lucky if no one tries to strip it off me before the night is over. Let me tell you drunk people are grabby, Stiles griped.

“Really?,” Leighann snorted, “I would've never guessed.” She raised her eyebrows, looking pointedly down at her own outfit, black short shorts with a form-fitting white leather vest just like his own and black knee high boots.

“Yeah well ok, I guess you do get it. But at least you work the vest ok. I have no idea what I did to deserve this. As if its not bad enough that I work with freakishly attractive people, I have to wear these ridiculously tight clothes. I’m 147 pounds of pale-“

“-skin and bone. Yeah so you've said. But have you looked in the mirror lately, Stiles? That’s not exactly accurate. You've gotten some muscle on you while working here. And well, the pale thing just brings out that pretty face you've got. I’m sure somewhere out there, there’s a sparkles-in-the-sunlight vampire just waiting to fall in love with you”

“If I didn't already love you like a sister, I’d hate you right now,” Stiles stuck his tongue out at her as she laughed. She had caught him reading Twilight once during his break and had never let him live it down.

“Whatever, now go! Peter’s waiting for you. I've gotta go check on the girls. I’ll see you in the VIP,” She shooed him past her, swatting his backside as he passed. He faked a yelp and tugged on the end of her long black hair in retaliation, making his way down the hall to where Peter’s office was.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOO 

“Come in,” Peter’s voice sounded through the wooden door leading into this office.

Stiles walked into the office to find his boss with his back to him, fiddling with a tie.

“Peter,” he called out to alert his boss to his presence.

Peter whipped around, holding the two ends of his tie as if he’d never seen such z contraption before in his life.

“Stiles,” Peter seemed relieved, “oh good, you’re here. Listen, I just wanted to talk to you before Laura and Derek get here. You’ll be serving them in the VIP area. I just-look, they haven’t been here since…well, since their parents died in the fire. I love the girls to death but you’re my best waiter, at least when you control that mouth of yours, so please just try get them whatever they need and don’t spill anything on anyone.”

“I’ve got it, Peter,” Stiles said stepping up to the older man, freeing the ends of the tie from Peter’s death grip and starting on the knot himself, “We all know what to do, ok? I know it can’t be easy for you to have them here tonight. Bringing up memories and all that-but we’ve got it. Just trust us.”

He pulled the tie into place on Peter’s neck and straightened it, looking up into his boss’ eyes where Peter’s eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, readjusting the knot and stepping back, “You puzzle me, Stiles, so much potential when you’re not too busy being a little shit.”

“Yeah well, you’re welcome. And thanks for that, I guess. I’m gonna head out to the bar now and help Leigh. I’ll see you out there.”

Peter’s phone started to ring before he could reply so Stiles slipped out the door, shutting it behind him. His boss might be a little bit of a weirdo sometimes but he was a decent guy. He had given them all jobs over the summer since they had been in high school and had even helped Stiles out with a loan when his Dad had gotten injured on the job. They were like a family. Something Peter didn't have too much of after the fire and Laura and Derek leaving. 

He’d do what he could for the Hales tonight, knowing that emotions would be running high. If there was one thing he was good at, it was distracting people from serious emotions. After all, he’d been deflecting them most of his life pretty successfully anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

By 8 the place was pretty packed and nearing 9 it was unusually busy. Stiles had been running around taking orders and helping Allison and Lydia where he could but they were still pretty overwhelmed. Stiles knew that some of it was just curiosity, people coming out to see the return of the younger Hales, but he also knew that Peter had recruited Lydia to make sure that they had a good turnout for the night. And Lydia definitely knew how to get people to a party.

Sweat dampened the t-shirt he wore under his vest, making it cling to the small of his back, and he knew his face was flushed from running around. Leigh caught his eye and signaled him over. He made his way to through the crowd, weaving between bodies to get over to her.

“Hey,” she yelled over the music and general noise in the bar, “how you holding up?”

“It’s crazy out there!” he replied, yelling back, “I don’t think I've ever seen a crowd like this.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding her head while expertly twirling a bottle in both hands before pouring some liquid into the cups in front of her, “I need you to take these two drinks over to Peter’s table and then the rest of this tray backstage to the band before they go on.”

She gestured to a tray filled with water bottles and a few cans of Red Bull. Nodding, Stiles placed the drinks on the laden tray and made his way over to the table in the VIP, section where Peter sat his friends whenever they came by. It was the best seat in the house and the drinks where usually free.

He was surprised when he got there to see his dad and Allison’s father sitting with Scott’s mom, Ms. McCall.

“Hey!” he called out, trying to wave before remembering he needed both hands for the tray. His father’s hands shot out momentarily as if to steady the tray. After a lifetime of living with Stiles’ clumsiness, the older man’s reflexes were incredibly sharp. Laughing at his father’s reaction, Stiles set the tray down on an empty corner of the table. He passed the drinks to his father and Mr. Argent, seeing as Ms. McCall was already sipping on a glass of wine.

“You guys here for the show?” he asked.

“Yep,” his Dad answered, “Peter invited us and we hadn't been out here in a while so we decided to make a night of it.”

“Yeah sure, you’re just here because you miss us.”

“No way, kiddo. Getting rid of you lot was the best thing we ever did for our social lives. Right, Melissa?” the Sheriff teased.

“Jesus, yes!” Ms. McCall agreed, “Scott and Stiles deserve each other. I’m just surprised they haven’t burned their apartment down yet.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s thanks to my daughter,” Mr. Argent piped in causing them all to laugh, mostly because it was probably true. On their own Scott and Stiles could handle themselves around the kitchen but together, it was more likely for something to explode.

Stiles left them laughing, shaking his head as he went. In all honesty, he was glad to see his father and even more so to see all their parents out together. They had all been single parents and at least they had each other for support. And from what Scott had told him, things were getting pretty serious between Ms. McCall and his dad, who had been dating for a few months now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Hoisting the tray a little higher on his shoulder, he pushed past the heavy curtains separating the backstage area. Going up the three small steps was significantly harder and he stumbled over the last one, upsetting the beverages and sending one of the water bottles tumbling to the floor. Doing his best to balance the tray, he stooped to grab the bottle off the floor, scooping it up and straightening as quickly as he could.

No sooner was he upright than he collided with what felt like a brick wall. The impact knocked all the air out of him and sent the entire tray he was holding flying off somewhere to his left.

“Shit!” he cursed, bringing one hand up to rub his nose where it smarted. He raised his eyes to see what in god’s name he had collided with and was met by what were probably the angriest eyebrows he had ever seen, furrowed deeply over what were definitely the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They were a Technicolor rainbow in high definition.

Biting back a yelp, Stiles jumped back at least a foot forgetting the stairs behind him. A large, strong hand shot out and grabbed him by the bicep to keep him from falling backwards down the stairs. His heart leapt into his throat nonetheless and he swore again. Once righted, the hand left his arm and Stiles followed the motion, his eyes trailing from hand to a very muscular arm and broad shoulders.

“Hey!” the sharp words caused Stiles to snap back to attention and focus his gaze on the face of his savior.

Before him stood the most attractive man that Stiles had ever seen. He was tall and built like a Greek statue cut out of marble, all lines and hard angles. His dark hair was shocking against his skin and bright eyes. He made quite the picture except that he was scowling so deeply that Stiles had to bite back the urge to tell him it would stick that way.

“I asked if you were ok,” the gruff voice cut into his thoughts again.

“Ye-yeah” Stiles stammered out, “thanks.”

“Watch where the hell you’re going next time,” came the cutting reply.

“Yeah sorry ‘bout that, man. Kinda hard to balance a full tray going up stairs, ya know?”

The raised eyebrows signaled to Stiles that Angry Adonis did not, indeed, know. He turned without another word, leaving Stiles to himself. Remembering that the contents of his tray were now splayed across the floor, Stiles hurried to gather them up. He managed to do it fairly quickly but as his luck would have it, his reach was too short sending the last bottle rolling further across the floor.

Swearing once more under his breath, he readied himself to go after it. It didn't get very far before being stopped by a boot and picked up. Stiles let out a breath and stood to thank whichever kind soul had taken pity on him.

Again, he found himself face to face with So Much Attractive, this time in female form. It was clearly becoming a theme. The woman in front of him was a good few inches shorter than him. She had had long dark hair and there were those crazy incredible eyes again. Angry Adonis and Raven-Haired Vixen had to be related. It couldn't be, could it…

The woman smiled a warm smile at him, holding out the water bottle. He took it and put it back on the tray.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem, handsome. I take it those are for us?” the gorgeous brunette asked, cocking her head to one side

Stiles nodded.

“Great! Then I hope you don’t mind if I take one of those Red Bulls off your hands.” She flashed another grin at him and he offered the tray towards her so she could grab the can.

“Thanks! I’m Laura by the way.”

“Stiles”

“Well nice to meet you, Stiles. Think you can manage that tray over to the stage, cutie?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles answered, causing Laura to throw her head back and laugh.

“Stiles, if we’re going to be friends, you have to promise me you’ll never call me ma’am again.”

“I think I could manage that, Laura”

“That’s more like it! Come on.”

He followed closely behind her, finally making his way backstage to where the rest of the band were putting the finishing touches on their set.

“Hey guys,” Laura called out, “Stiles here brought us some refreshments. Come say hi and play nice.” Three people Stiles hadn’t met before came and grabbed bottles and cans off the tray.

“Stiles, this is Boyd,” Laura indicated a tall broad man with dark skin. He had a serious air about him, Stiles thought, but more like he was the strong and silent type. The man eyed Stiles calmly before giving him a small nod, which Stiles returned.

Laura turned to the man standing next to her, linking her arm through his. He was taller than Boyd but leaner. With his golden curls and big blue eyes, he looked to Stiles like an adorable puppy but he could have just as easily been a male model.

“This is Isaac,” Laura introduced him. Isaac smiled easily and reached his hand out to Stiles.

“Hey man,” Isaac greeted him warmly.

“Hey,” he answered.

“And-“Laura began.

“-And, I’m Erica,” purred the knock out blond coming to stand near Stiles from the other side and running a hand down his arm. Stiles was just ticklish enough that it made him shiver slightly, causing a grin to spread across Erica’s face. Stiles thought it looked downright wolfish, especially with the bright red lipstick Erica was wearing.

“Heyyyy, Erica” Stiles said, taking a step closer to Laura and away from Erica. This only caused her to puff out her impressive chest, which was clearly outlined by the tank she was wearing.

“Aww look Stiles, Erica must really like you. She doesn't just shove her boobs in everyone’s face. Not at all.” Isaac teased, rolling his eyes while Laura snorted.

“Hey,” Erica retorted, even though she was smiling, “I’m just giving him a chance to ogle my beautiful…everything.”

“Me, ogle? Nah, never,” Stiles countered, “I’m too enchanted by them beautiful brown eyes.”

“ooh, you’re very good, Stiles” Laura said laughing again as Erica ducked her head looking awfully sheepish for someone with so much sex appeal.

“Thank you, Stiles” Erica said, recovering her confidence but this time the smile she gave Stiles was more genuine, “You're rocking that doe-eyed thing you've got going on, pretty well yourself”

Stiles grinned at her, earning himself a wink in return.

“Well,” Laura continued, “that’s everyone except for Derek. He’s around here somewhere. You’ll know him when you see him. Tall, dark, brooding...acts like a grumpy, old man.”

“Angry Adonis!” Stiles blurted in realization. Of course, that would be Derek.

Laura’s eyebrows did a little twitch as if first to show her confusion, then raising high in mirth, as she cackled with laughter.

“Oh my god! Stiles, I love you! That’s exactly it! That is the best nickname ever and trust me he’s had a few!”

It was Stiles’ turn to raise his eyebrows.

“Derek McScowly,” Erica supplied, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Sourpants McGee,” Isaac added, chuckling along with Laura who was seeming to get more hysterical.

“Krabby Cakes Hale,” Boyd supplied. Even Stiles couldn't suppress his laughter at that one and began to chuckle in earnest with the others.

“What the hell is so funny?” a familiar gruff voice rang out.

“oh my god-Derek-you-Stiles-” Laura choked out.

Derek was back with his scowl and eyebrows at Level 10 grump.

“What the hell is a Stiles? And why are you all standing around like we don’t have a show to put on in 5 minutes?”

That seemed to sober everyone up a little and the others slowly pulled themselves together. Laura was wiping tears from her face.

“Alright, Alright, Angry Adonis, we’re moving!” Laura laughed, grabbing Isaac, and moving away, “Later Stiles! Hope you like the show”

“Angry Adonis? What the-what does that even mean, Laura? No more damn nicknames!”

The rest of the band moved away to take their positions on the stage. Derek whirled suddenly, his gaze landing on Stiles.

“You,” it came out like an accusation and Stiles almost recoiled, “don’t you have somewhere to be?””

“I, have a name,” Stiles answered, “it’s Stiles and I’m leaving now so you don’t have to get your admittedly well-fitted jeans in a twist, Sourwolf”

Derek’s head snapped back to Stiles, eyes wide in surprise, and he all but sprinted out the down the stairs and out the door before Derek could get a word out. He must have imagined it but he thought he heard Laura’s cackle as he went even though there was no way she could have heard him. She must’ve been laughing at something else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Stiles! Where the hell have you been?” Leigh’s voice carried across the bar as soon as he reached shouting range in the VIP lounge.

“Backstage, duh! Where you sent me.” Stiles grinned at her.

“Cut the sass, kid. I’m up to my elbows in orders which I've had to make and deliver, thanks to you,” she complained.

“Sorry, I didn't realize I’d been gone so long, Princess Leigh-a” he apologized using his nickname for her. It was ironic because she hadn't seen the movies. Stiles had been actively trying to get her and Scott to watch them with him for years but he hadn't managed it yet.

“Ugh! It’s not you. It’s just busy as hell in here tonight plus Greenberg went and dropped an entire fucking case of beer on his foot. Now he can’t walk and Scott can't cover them both so Peter had to send Jackson to help him and he’s sending more orders here while Lydia and Allison are waiting and bussing!!!”

“Leigh, you just said that all in one breath. Calm down, take a nice slow breath,” he coached as she inhaled sharply though her nose, “There you go, now let it out. Feel better”

“No!”

“Oh”

“Yeah…” the two looked at each other for a moment before busting into a smile, “grab a tray and get out of here, Stiles. Work the floor with the girls. I’ll handle this section.”

“Yes, ma’am” he saluted, grabbing a tray.

“Do I look like a ma’am to you? Wait-don’t answer that. Just go!” Leigh chased him.

He danced out of the way, chuckling at the second time tonight he’d been reprimanded for calling someone ma’am. Apparently Laura and Leigh didn’t appreciate being made to feel older than they were.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stiles hit the floor and began taking orders as fast as he could but there were more people than usual and they were down a man, or a Greenberg anyway. He got lost in a blur of faces and drink orders. He was sweaty and exhausted but he'd been making pretty good tips and only one or two people had made a pass at him. Not bad for a night like this.

He was in the middle of taking orders from a group of middle-aged women when the band took the stage. He spared a glance up to the stage when he heard Laura announce the band, Hale the Moonlight. His eyes found Derek and his throat went dry. Derek had changed out of his relaxed fit jeans and v-neck tee into a tight black muscle shirt and jeans that left very little to the imagination. Stiles thought he might be in love with those jeans and he sent up a silent thanks to the universe for whomever had made them.

He was brought back to reality by one of the women clearing her throat in his direction and giving him a mischievous little smile, “I know, right?” she stage-whispered.

He felt a blush creep up his neck and finished taking their order, making his way back to the bar where he handed it over to Peter, who had jumped in to help out behind the bar. His sleeves were rolled up, his tie tucked under his shirt, and he was moving fluidly behind the bar; grabbing two bottles in each hand and expertly pouring drinks. Stiles tried to catch his eye but Peter was looking intently at the stage. When Peter passed the order over to him, Stiles gave him a quick smile that he hoped was encouraging.

He didn't have much time to focus on what was happening on onstage but whenever he could, he would peek up in its direction. Laura was the lead vocalist, and damn if she didn't have a set of pipes on her. Derek stood to her right, playing an expensive looking black guitar. Isaac was to the left, picking a tune on his bass. Erica and Boyd were behind them, playing the keyboards and the drums, respectively.

They opened with a few covers, including at least one Pat Benatar number that Stiles remembered his mother had loved. He caught himself mouthing the words as he shimmied through the crowd. People seemed to be enjoying the show though, which was good for business.

He was on his way over to the bar to pick up a round of beers for a bunch of frat guys when the band started on their last cover, some song by a band named Halestorm. Laura mentioned that they had a Love/Hate relationship with the band because while they loved their music, they hated that people always got them mixed up.

Stiles turned to watch while he waited for the beers. Laura crooned seductively into the mic, swaying her hips. Erica and Boyd’s voice joined hers seamlessly. He gave it to them, they sounded amazing and looked like sex on the stage.

Somewhere in the middle of the number, Erica left the keyboards and started dancing around the stage, doing a sexy little striptease-type number. Stiles felt his mouth drop open a little as he watched Erica run her hands down Boyd’s chest and slipping them underneath his shirt. She rounded the stage, slinking her body against Isaac’s, before making her way to Laura. Erica got down on her knees at the front of the stage, just as Laura screamed into the mic ,

_I need someone young, willing, and able._  
 _You need someone old enough to know better._  
 _I want you to_  
 _Do my dirty work, do my dirty work, ohhh….._

Erica slithered her way across the stage, whipping her long blond hair at the audience. Women and men alike were going wild. She really did have beautiful everything.

Laura stepped aside just as Derek started a complicated riff on his guitar, his fingers flying across its polished surface, his face stoic like he could do it in his sleep. Stiles was transfixed with the way his fingers made the guitar sing, wondering briefly what other magic they could work before he felt himself go hot all over.

_Do my dirty work, do my dirty work, ohhhh_  
 _Do my dirty work, do my dirty work, yeahhh,_  
 _Come on!_

Erica finished her crawl across the stage, grabbing hold of Derek’s legs and climbing her way up his body while Derek continued to play, unfazed. She swung around behind him, running her hands up his torso, pulling his shirt up as she went. Stiles felt his breath leave him all at once. Derek’s stomach and chest were covered in a sheen of sweat that made them glisten in the lights. Stiles wanted nothing more than to lick it off of him, using his tongue to trace the contours of each and every muscle. He could just imagine them bunching and twitching under his ministrations.

Derek hit the last note hard, bringing his guitar up as he strummed it. Stiles knew he was definitely sporting a full body flush and his pants were noticeably tighter in the groin area than they had been minutes prior. He averted his eyes from Derek, choosing to look at Laura instead. Their eyes locked and Stiles could have sworn that she winked at him. His eyes flicked over to Derek, who’s shirt had thankfully returned to its fully-upright landing position since Erica had made her way back to the keyboards to finish off the song.

The spray of cold to his neck was a sudden shock and he jumped. Turning, he found Jackson smirking at him, the soda nozzle in his hand.

“You looked like you could use a cold shower,” Jackson said, shrugging and pushing a tray of beers towards him.

“Dick!” he retaliated. Jackson’s eyebrows shot up, his face smug.

“Guess that makes you a bitch in heat? Get outta here, Stilinski, before I hose you down.”

Stiles grabbed the tray off the bar, glaring at Jackson as he went. He managed to wipe off the back of his neck with one hand before he reached his table. Delivering the drinks, he decided that he was long overdue for a break so he made his way to the bathroom just as the band started on one of their original songs, a little number that Laura wrote called “Vagina Dentata.” Yeah, it was definitely time for his break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda long but I wanted to get Derek in there...
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!


	3. Chapter 3

“I just want to thank you all for coming out to see us tonight,” Laura spoke into the mic, ” I know that’s in no small part to our uncle, Peter Hale. Thanks, Peter! You’ve been a great crowd and if you like what you saw tonight, then grab your friends and be back here tomorrow night! On behalf of myself and Hale The Moonlight, thank you and goodnight!”

Stiles knew that was his cue to make his way backstage. He had to take drinks for the band and show them to the table Peter had reserved for them. He was glad for the excuse to get back to the relative quiet of the VIP section. The drink orders had been coming in pretty steadily and he was already completely exhausted even though he had a few more hours to go. 

He kind of hoped that the crowd would thin out after the show but from the looks of it, everyone seemed to be staying put even as the DJs, Ethan and Aiden (or the blond wonder twins, as Stiles liked to call them), started playing. He found Leigh looking a little worse for wear but she shot him a smile and shoved an already loaded tray in his direction. 

“You are an angel, a goddess really. Marry me. Have my babies. Actually, Imma have yours.”

She snorted and shook her head exasperatedly, not bothering to answer him before turning to get started on another drink. Stiles hefted the tray and made his way backstage for the second time that night, hoping that he wouldn’t spill anything this time. Although, he definitely wouldn’t mind bumping into Derek again. Repeatedly. In several different positions.

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He found Erica first. She was starfished on the floor, looking for all the world like she was ready to call it a night and just go to sleep right there. Hearing his footsteps approaching, she opened one eye to look up at him.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to bottle-feed me that Jack and Coke?” She queried. Boyd’s voice cut across the room before Stiles could answer. 

“If you’re too tired to drink it yourself, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking at all.”

“Nope nope nope. I’m up! I’m up!” she argued, pulling herself into a sitting position and making grabby hands towards the tray. Stiles handed her the drink and a bottle of water. Boyd grabbed a bottle of water off the tray and used it to douse himself before grabbing his drink off the tray. Stiles handed off two more drinks to Isaac and Laura and turned to look for Derek. 

He was still on stage, fiddling with his guitar. Stiles walked over, stopping in front of him, and cleared his throat. Derek raised his eyes to meet Stiles’ and Stiles felt his pulse raise just from being under the weight of Derek’s gaze.

“I’ve got your drink order from the bar. And water if you’re thirsty.”

“Thanks,” the reply came out gruff and quick.

“Wow, a thank you. I’m gonna guess you don’t hand those out too freely.”

Derek’s gaze turned hard and his eyebrows pressed together in what Stiles could only guess was irritation…or rage…or perhaps constipation, though that made the least sense in the scenario. But still, you never know, right?

“Um, so…that was a pretty awesome show. I liked-er-what you did there with your guitar…”

He was met with more silence but he didn’t let it phase him. He could fill up any silence enough for the both of them.

“And you know, I know the ladies really loved you. You’ve got that bad boy thing going. You know with the smolder and the stubble and the incredible as-abs…Yeah, your abs, yep...them bad boys are intense. I mean, dude, you must work out like all the time, right? This one lady-she was kind of a cougar, gets a little handsy after 2 margaritas- said something about using you as a washboard, which I don’t really get, but, you know, if I had that body at my disposal, I’m pretty sure I’d find something a little more inventive to do than laundry…”

Stiles stuttered, his brain catching up to his mouth. He knew he was in full-blown lobster mode. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from babbling himself beyond redemption. He peeked up to find that Derek’s eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline.

“Ehrm…I meant…” Derek saved him by turning heel and walking away. Stiles let out a breath and allowed his shoulders to sag. Nice, Stiles, he thought to himself, very smooth.

Peter whipped through the curtain just then, clapping Stiles on the shoulder as he passed.

“Everything good in here?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, its great,” Stiles responded to the back of Peter’s head as he’d already moved past Stiles on his way to where Laura and Derek were standing.

Stiles watched as Peter approached his niece and nephew. Laura squealed and threw herself into her uncle’s arms. Peter appeared to be a bit stunned by the display but quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around his niece to give her a tight squeeze. If they held on a little longer than normal, Stiles wasn’t going to tell anyone. It made something in his chest warm to see Peter and Laura.  
When Laura finally pulled away, Peter turned to Derek. Stiles watched the two men. Derek appeared stiff and awkwardly extended his hand towards Peter, who shook it before gripping it between both of his hands. They exchanged a few words and Stiles wished he had super hearing in that moment. Peter greeted the rest of the band in turn, Erica pouncing on him enthusiastically because, well, she was Erica. 

“Stiles!” Peter called, turning his head in the direction he was standing, “Come over here.”

Stiles made his way over to the group. Peter draped an arm over him as he reached them. 

“I hope Stiles here has been treating you guys well,” Peter addressed the group, who nodded their consent, “Good, he’s my best waiter. Been with me since he was in high school. He’s clumsy as hell and doesn't think before he speaks, but god help us, the customers seem to love to listen to him babble.”

Stiles felt his blush returning at Peter’s praise but he couldn't deny a certain warmth at his words. He always knew that his boss seemed to like him but hearing Peter praise him like this was doing wonders for his ego.

“I’m pretty sure it helps that he’s so pretty,” Laura piped up, raking her eyes over Stiles, “and would you look at those eyelashes. I would kill for eyelashes that long.”

“Aw, shucks, Laura,” Stiles grinned, “you sure know how to make a guy blush.” 

Everyone chuckled as Erica spoke up, a wicked glint in her eye.

“Forget his eyelashes, would you get a load of his mouth? Those are some di-“

“Erica!” Boyd warned lowly, causing Erica to laugh evilly.

“What? I’m just saying. It could drive a man to distraction…even a grumpy, surly one,” She shot a quick look in Derek’s direction who looked back at her with murder in his eyes, “I bet women AND men come on to you all the time.”

“What can I say?,” Stiles laughed, “everyone loves them some Stiles. And hey, I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy.”

Stiles’ eyes darted over to Derek but he was studying his drink intently, seemingly not paying attention to the conversation. He did manage to catch Laura’s eye, who was positively beaming at him.

Peter cleared his throat,

“Well, if you all are done harassing my waiter, let’s go outside. I've got some friends I’d love for you to meet. Stiles?”

“Uh, yeah, right this way guys,” Stiles gave a little bow, leading them all towards the VIP lounge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys,
> 
> I'm not thrilled with this chapter but I think I've been sitting on it long enough. Let me know what you think!
> 
> And as always, feel free to look me up on Tumblr, WhenTheFireHasNoHeat!
> 
> XOXO


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles had barely gotten them seated and waved hello to his dad when a shrill whistle sounded over the noise of the bar. Allison’s from the sound of it. He and Peter moved to the rail encasing the elevated VIP platform where they had a clear view of the floor. Allison’s hand, illuminated by a purple glow-in-the-dark bangle, shot up from near the women’s room. Her whistle sounded again and she signed the code, once then repeating it. Seeing it was not a real emergency, Peter made his way back to the table, leaving Stiles to overlook the scene.

“D-C-D?” a soft voice questioned from beside him.

“Yeah,” he answered, keeping his eyes trained on Allison, as Ennis bulldozed his way through the crowd to her side, Scott approaching from the other, “Drunk Chic Down.”

He heard a vaguely familiar snort and turned his head towards the voice, his eyes meeting deep hazel pools. He jumped almost as if to keep himself from falling into their depths. 

“You know American Sign Language?” he asked. Derek nodded his affirmation.

“What else is there?”

“Huh?” Stiles was at a loss that Derek was actually using multiple words at him.

“That code you guys use, are there others?” Derek asked.

“Oh yeah,” Stiles breathed out, “there’s D-3 for ‘Drunk Dude Down’, G-2-W for ‘Girl Gone Wild’, and my personal favorite, B-S-T,”

He paused until Derek raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to continue,

“Bathroom Sexy Times.”

Stiles noticed the corner of Derek’s mouth twitch, before he schooled his face back to its regular stoicism. 

“I’m surprised Peter came up with something like that, although…” Derek mused, his voice trailing off at the end.

“Pshaw, Peter had nothing to do with it. That was all me!” Stiles boasted.

“It was your idea?” Derek asked, his face surprised, or at least what Stiles deciphered as surprised. Stiles nodded proudly.

“I took a class as an elective back in high school,” Stiles explained, “We had all just started working here and it was a mess. We didn't have a good system when it came to emergencies. One time I tried to carry a drunk guy to the door by myself and I ended up pinned beneath him covered in puke. After that I worked out a system that we all could use if there was trouble.”

Derek was watching him with an unreadable expression so he continued,

“I mean it didn't work so well at first because we couldn't see each other and we just looked ridiculous waving our hands above our heads. But then Lydia came up with the glow-sticks and Allison got these military grade whistles from her dad.”

He slipped his own whistle from where it was hanging out of his back pocket, dangling it between him and Derek.

“No glowing bangles for you?” Derek smirked.

“Nah, I’m not really a jewelry kind of guy. And well, Lydia yelled at me for chewing on it the first day. I guess it’s kinda toxic or something. So I had to get a little creative.”

He extended his hand out in front of them so that it was bathed in fluorescent light coming from a UV lamp above them, Derek tracking the movement with his eyes. Under the UV light, the ink on Stiles wrist was illuminated like blue fire under his skin. A wolf with its head tossed back, howling at the full moon. It had been his first tattoo and he was proud of it, especially now the way it seemed to glow in the black light. He thought he heard Derek take in a sharp breathe and he turned his head to look at the other man.

Derek was staring down at the tattoo, his eyes wide. He took a step closer, causing Stiles’ pulse to ratchet upwards in his chest. Derek’s hand reached out cautiously, his fingers hovering above Stiles’ wrist. Stiles felt like every synapse in his body was firing simultaneously, making his body prickle with electricity just from the proximity. 

A whistle shrieked from below them, Lydia’s this time, snapping them out of the moment and Derek jumped back guiltily. Lydia’s pink bangle hovered in the air, her whistle sounding again and again as her hands waved frantically above her head. W-W-E-S. WWE smackdown. Stiles could see a group of guys facing off in front of her.

“Stiles?” Peter called from behind them.

“WWES. It looks like a big group,” Stiles called back.

Peter pushed up from the couch hurriedly, swearing under his breath.

“Let’s get down there,” he sighed, motioning to Stiles to follow him and buttoning his jacket as he went. 

“Let me know if you need me down there, Stiles,” his father called out.

Stiles nodded then spared a glance back at Derek but he had already moved back to the table where the rest of the band was sitting. Shaking his head, Stiles made his way to the stairs. It wasn’t a party at Howl until there was a bar brawl.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOO

By the time Stiles and Peter got there, chaos had erupted on the floor. A group of about eight guys were going at each other. Ennis had one of them in hand and was bodily shielding him from two others with his large mass. Scott was standing between two very angry looking guys, trying his best to keep them apart. Stiles could see Lydia standing in front of a scared looking girl, her small frame in a defensive position, her glare more than enough to keep the ruckus away from her and her ward.

The music stopped just as one of the brawlers connected his fist with Scott’s jaw, causing him to stumble backwards into the other and go down. Stiles plunged into the melee towards his best friend, yelling over his shoulder for Danny or Jackson to get their asses over there. He caught sight of Danny using one hand to vault over the bar and run towards them before he was caught up in the rush.

He reached Scott’s side and yanked a large man off of him, landing one hit to the man’s midsection that sent him into Danny’s grip. He cursed and shook out his hand while offering the other to Scott to help haul him up off the floor. Scott got to his feet and once steady, nodded to Stiles. He gave Scott a quick pat on the shoulder and turned towards the others. 

Immediately, pain exploded across his face where he caught a stray elbow. In theory, Stiles was more a lover than a fighter, but it didn't mean he wouldn't throw down when necessary. He waited until the guy was up in his face before kneeing him swiftly in the groin and sending him to his knees. Uh, hello folks, Sheriff’s kid!  
Scott was standing behind the guy with a shit-eating grin on his face. Stiles, being Stiles, held out his fist for Scott to bump. With that, they barreled their way in between a group of what appeared to be 2 on 1. While Scott shoved the two attackers back, Stiles dragged their victim off the floor, holding him back even as he fought to get past Stiles. 

He turned his head just enough to see a guy headed straight for Peter’s back.

“Peter!” he called out in warning.

Peter spun around just in time to stop the fist to his face, literally catching it with his hand. His eyes were a cold and deadly blue as he grabbed the guy by the collar, pulling him close with a dangerous sneer on his face. Stiles would bet his next check that the guy pissed himself just from the look alone. He grinned as he watched Peter pull his arm back and deliver one hard blow that sent the guy down, knocked out cold. 

It seemed to dampen the anger of the guys fighting around them. The guy in Stiles’ grip stopped struggling and went still. A look towards Scott showed him that two guys Scot had been pushing back had also lost all their fight.

Peter straightened his shirt calmly and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Get them out of here,” he growled lowly towards Ennis. Ennis scooped up the guy laid out on the floor and tossed him over his shoulder, shoving three more guys in front of him. Danny followed, prodding along another few while Scott rounded up the remainder. 

“You alright?” Peter directed the question to Lydia who was now holding the sobbing girl in her arms. When she nodded, Peter turned towards Stiles who nodded at the unanswered question. Peter took a deep breath and plastered a fake yet charming smile on his face. He turned to face the crowd.

“Well it wouldn't be a Howl party without a few lunatics,” he called out jovially towards the crowd, who all responded with laughs and a few cheers, “Ethan, Aiden, where’s the music boys?”

The music boomed across the bar and the merry-making picked up without a snag. It was as if nothing had happened. Stiles knew better than to think Peter had let it go just yet. Peter whispered quietly to Lydia and the crying girl, offering them both a consoling squeeze to the shoulder. Lydia left, presumably to get back to work, and Peter offered his arm to the girl. He gripped Stiles’ arm as he walked past him, with a whispered “Keep an eye out.”

Stiles nodded as Peter left the floor and led the girl towards the stairs to the VIP lounge. A quick look around showed him that Danny had returned to his place behind the bar, where he was manhandling Scott into sitting down with an icepack to his face and Ennis was at the door, having dealt with the brawlers. Stiles would never want to be someone who had to deal with Ennis, because he was scary as hell if you crossed him. For a moment, Stiles wished that Kali, Ennis’ wife, had been there. She usually worked the door with Ennis but she was currently on maternity leave. That woman was beautiful and badass. 

Stiles quickly scanned the crowd for Allison and Lydia and found them whispering to each other in a corner. He caught Allison’s eye and tilted his head, inquiring about Lydia. She nodded slightly, letting him know that Lydia was ok. The girls finished their conversation and parted ways to get back to work. 

Stiles sighed, his friends were safe, and everything was back to normal in the bar. He let his eyes sweep towards the VIP section. Derek stood alone at the rail, looking directly at him. Their eyes connected and Stiles could feel Derek’s stare like a tangible weight. They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer before Derek turned and walked back to the group. Letting out another sigh and reaching up to touch his smarting face gingerly, he made his way back towards the VIP, suddenly exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are wonderful! Have another chapter!
> 
> *hugs you all aggressively*
> 
> PS. Stiles' tattoo is done in white UV ink, which is why it wasn't visible until he put it under the black light.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles!” Leigh was out from behind the bar and smothering him in a tight hug before he could fully make it up the stairs.

“Are you ok?” she asked, leaning up to take his face in her hands and rotating it so she could get a better look.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassured her.

“Stiles, that sucker’s definitely gonna bruise,” she told him, running her fingers gently over where he’d been hit, “You need to get some ice on it ok?”

“Yeah, I will,” he promised, “let me just check on Peter first.”

She nodded but then paused, “wait, take him a drink.”

She went behind the bar and poured a generous two fingers of Scotch into a glass and poured a shot of Jack. She brought it back over to him.

“Down this,” she commanded, handing him the shot.

“Leigh, you know we’re not supposed to-“ he protested.

“Stiles, you just took a hit from a man large enough to be grizzly bear and didn't even stumble. Take the shot for fuck’s sake,” she was kinda scary when she wanted to be.

He couldn't argue with that logic so he tossed back the shot and grimaced at the burn in his throat. He shook his head and rolled his neck to work out the kinks before taking the glass from Leigh’s outstretched hand. He walked over to the group and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, passing him the glass with the other. Peter eyed him with appreciation as he took a long swig from the glass. Stiles felt some of the tension release from Peter’s shoulder.

“Oh my god, Stiles!” he heard before he had an armful of Laura, Erica on her heels, “are you ok, cutie?”

“I’m currently being coddled by two beautiful women. My night’s definitely looking up,” He joked.

He caught Ms. McCall’s worried frown and smiled at her. She shook her head but smiled back. Boyd and Isaac shook his hand and slapped him on the back. Apparently everyone was surprised that he could handle himself. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he should be pleased or insulted.

He made his way over to his Dad, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“You alright, kiddo?” his dad questioned quietly, eyes searching his face.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. Definitely had worse.” He reassured.

“Ok,” his dad nodded, “in that case, nice work, son.”

Stiles beamed at his dad and swooped down to give him a quick hug. Stilinski men hugged things out, ok? He felt a familiar prickle on the back of his neck and sure enough he found Derek’s eyes on him. Derek gave him a curt nod to him and he nodded back. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing. And Stiles could work with that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOO 

The end of the night found the employees of Howl strewn across the couches in the Staff lounge. Lydia and Jackson were sitting on one couch, her feet in his lap as he rubbed them. Danny was laid out on another, seemingly dead to the world. Scott had collapsed in an armchair, Allison in his lap, while Stiles had bodily thrown himself to the floor near their feet.

“I’ll quit,” Lydia announced, matter-of-factly, her mouth set in a pout as she watched Jackson knead her feet like she was about to critique his technique, “If this place is gonna be busy like that every night, I refuse to wear high heels all night. If Peter doesn't believe me, I’ll quit,”

Someone hummed a note of general agreement. Lydia was ready to quit at least once a week, twice even sometimes. Yet she’d been there just as long as the rest of them and probably wouldn’t be going anywhere until after she was done with college.

“I swear as soon as I’m done with school and make my first million, I’m going to buy this place and bulldoze it. I’ll be doing everyone a favor.”

Stiles was too exhausted to respond. Hell, he was too tired to even think of a witty remark and even if he had, he didn't have the energy to open his mouth anyway. He settled for groaning loudly, adjusting the ice-filled towel over his cheek.

At the sound, Danny lifted his arm from where it was draped over his eyes.

“Ugh, someone needs to help me up right now or else just leave me here to die. I don’t think I've ever made that many drinks in one night. Or been bought that many shots. I took about six before I had to start Coyote Ugly-ing them.”

“You've probably never made better tips either, even though you kept your shirt on,” Allison smirked from where she was propped on Scott’s lap.

“True,” Danny conceded.

“I have to say, I’m not sure if I’m impressed or disappointed,” she replied with a mischievous grin.

Danny just shook his head at her before returning to his comatose state but Scott shot her an almost hurt look but she just giggled and kissed his head before leaning down to whisper something in his ear. 

“Awww- can you guys be sickeningly sweet somewhere else?” Stiles complained, struggling to sit up before the two could start a makeout session above his head. He was only half kidding. Allison’s whisper had been about as quiet as a bull in a china shop from Stiles position. There were some things he never wanted to know about his best friend’s sex life.

The door swung open before they could say anything and Leigh walked through looking for all the world like she’d just single-handedly stopped the zombie apocalypse. She scanned the room for a millisecond before dumping herself down on Danny, causing him to make an “oof” sound before he curled himself around her so she could sit. She stuck her booted feet out, wiggling them in front of Stiles. 

“Help,” it was more a statement than a request but he obliged, grabbing hold of her boot and pulling.

Leigh sighed heavily once her foot slipped free and reclined against Danny as Stiles worked on the other boot.

“Thanks,” she sighed again, letting her feet rest in his lap, “don’t suppose I could convince you to carry me to my car later, do you?”

“Drive me home so I don’t have to deal with the lovebirds and you've got yourself a deal,” Stiles chuckled lightly. A throw pillow hit him in the head and turning, he found Allison scrunching her nose at him.

“What? Last time you guys were like this I thought I would need the Jaws of Life to separate you long enough to get through the apartment door. And that was, when, last weekend?”

Scott threw a pillow this time but he dodged and caught it with a triumphant, “aha!”

“Deal,” Leigh agreed resignedly, looking at the lot of them like they belonged in a circus.

“Where’s Peter?” Stiles asked.

“Office?” Leigh shrugged her shoulders, “he said he’d be here in a few.”

“He’s probably trying to close the deal with that PYT from earlier,” Jackson piped up.

“Really, Jackson?” Lydia’s asked incredulously.

“What?” Jackson shrugged it off, “not like it would be the first time,”

Stiles looked up in time to see a small frown on Leigh’s face. He gave her ankle a small squeeze. It was no secret that Peter sometimes picked women up at the bar. It was actually a pretty well-known fact what sometimes it went down in Peter’s office after hours. Hell, Stiles had even walked in on it one time. Peter had just smirked unashamed and kept right on. If Stiles was being honest, he could credit that exact moment as the one he realized that perhaps his own sexuality was a little more fluid than he’d thought. 

It might be a bit unprofessional, but it was Peter.

“What ever happened to Greenberg?” Stiles asked.

“He was fine,” Jackson answered him, “He was just playing up his injury so he could take it easy and talk to some girls he knew. Ennis saw him walking one of them to her car just fine and hauled him back in here to do all the cleanup. Fucking Greenberg”

“No wonder Ennis told me to leave the bar the way it was,” Leigh chuckled, “let that be a lesson, boys and girls, don’t ever lie to Ennis. You will get caught and made to clean the bathrooms.”

They were still laughing when Ennis and Peter walked in, quirking an eyebrow at them. 

“Greenberg?” Stiles asked through a laugh.

“Scrubbing out the urinals,” Ennis said, his smile just a tad bit evil.

Peter smiled at them wearily,

“Alright, lets get this done and get out of here. Tonight’s been long enough,” everyone nodded their assent so he continued, “I know it was hectic but busy is good for us. We had a few slow months. Also, good work handling the situations tonight. Girls, you did a fantastic job out there-“

“Peter-“ Lydia started.

“You’re not getting a raise, Lydia. Not right now anyway. When your review is up, I promise to work on it with Duke. Until then, please don’t quit.”

Lydia swallowed down whatever it was she had been about to say next.

“Stiles, Danny, Scott, thanks for having our backs tonight. I appreciate it. You guys alright?”

“I’m probably gonna have a black eye” Scott whined.

“I’m sorry about that but I appreciate it,” Peter sympathized.

“How sorry?” Scott queried.

“Not sorry enough to give you next Friday off but maybe sorry enough to pretend I don’t know it was you and Stiles who broke an entire crate of wine glasses last weekend,” Peter answered smartly.

“Uh, works for me,” Scott agreed, ducking his head sheepishly. 

“Anybody else?” Peter asked, looking around the room and continuing when they all shook their heads, “ok, great. I don’t know if tomorrow night will be the same but be prepared. Now, let’s get out of here.

With groans and moans, everyone picked themselves up and started to head out. Remembering his promise, Stiles approached Leigh from behind where she was talking to Ennis. He swung her up bridal-style as she yelped in surprise.

“It’s this or over my shoulder, Princess,” he responded to her wide-eyed surprise. “ I sure hope you remember where you parked, ‘cause otherwise I can’t really promise I won’t drop you.”

“Stiles, I swear to God if you drop me, I will kill you,” she warned him as he walked off towards the direction of the lot.

“No you wont, you love me too much,” he sassed, despite the glare she leveled at him, “besides, who else is gonna babysit for you when your sitter cancels last minute, huh? You know Vicki loves me best.”

Stiles was referencing the few occasions when Leigh had called him frantically begging to babysit her niece, who she had taken in after her sister’s passing in a car accident. Vicki had been a toddler and Leigh was only in her early twenties but she’d refused to let her niece go into the foster system.

“Touche,” She conceded and settled into his hold as well as she could.

“So when are you seeing this mystery man again?” Stiles asked. 

The last time Leigh had called him, she was on her way out to a date with some guy she seemed to be hitting it off with. No one knew who it was but Vicki had told Stiles that she’d never seen her mama smile so much. Stiles hoped this guy was really great. Leigh deserved it, plus if he ever hurt her, he’d have the entire work force of Howl on his back.

“I’m not sure,” she told him, shrugging her shoulders with a small frown, “soon I hope. “

He let her down and they got into the car. They were both too exhausted to make small talk but it was ok. It was a comfortable silence. Stiles couldn't wait to get his Jeep back from the shop but riding with Leigh was way better than with Scott and Allison. He leaned over and kissed her cheek when they reached his apartment complex.

“Thanks,” he said opening the door and making to step out, “Leigh, if he doesn't call soon, he must be bat shit crazy. You’re amazing.”

“Thanks,” she gave him a tired smile, “Love you, Stiles.”

“Love you too, Princess Leigh-a,” he waved until the car was out of view.

Stiles turned towards the complex with only one thought on his mind, sleep. If later when he finally was in bed, he had brought himself off to thoughts of one brooding guitar player with rainbow eyes, it was no one’s business but his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcome as always!
> 
> PS. When Danny says he was "Coyote Ugly-ing" shots, it a reference to the movie where they would spit out shots into a beer bottle after pretending to drink them. In my head canon, Danny uses a Red Bull bottle.
> 
> : )


	6. Chapter 6

If it was possible, Friday night was even busier than the previous night. It wasn't as hectic but it was crowded. News had spread about the concert and it seemed like all of Beacon Hills wanted to get a glimpse of the Hales. Greenberg was back in action, at least, so things were running a little more smoothly at least.

Stiles had been working the VIP exclusively while Leigh tended the bar up there. Peter had gone to greet the band, taking Scott with him to help them set up the stage. After making a round, Stiles went back to the bar to grab stuff for the band. Just like the day before, the tray was already waiting for him. Leigh winked at him over him over his shoulder as he blew her a kiss in thanks.

He ran to the backstage area but didn't see anyone. He was slightly disappointed that he wouldn't get to talk to the band before they went on, or talk to Derek really, but he had to get back. He left the tray on a small table and turned to leave. Inspiration hit and he grabbed a sharpie from his pocket, grinning as he spread a napkin open.

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Stiles finished setting up Peter’s table just as the band took the stage. Peter had asked that he put out a whole bottle of Scotch on the table so Stiles knew someone important would be there tonight. It was still fairly calm in the VIP so he decided to go help Leigh behind the bar.

They worked well together, weaving around each other getting drinks made. Stiles knew the basics from what Peter and Leigh had taught him over the years but he would never have her coordination or Peter’s finesse. They hit a bit of a lull and took a moment to brace themselves against the bar, watching the band play.

“So, I know the dark haired girl is Laura and the hottie next to her is Derek,” Leigh spoke, “but who are the rest?”

“Well,” Stiles answered, “Tall, Broad, and Sexy is Boyd. He’s quiet but he seems really cool. The Red-Lipped Seductress is Erica. She’s like walking sex appeal but she’s kinda evil, like a little sister would be. Handsome Curly-locks is Isaac. I think something’s going on between him and Laura but I’m not sure.”

“Hmm,” Leigh mused, “and Derek?”

“What?” Stiles asked, distracted from staring at the man in question. He was wearing the tight jeans again and a short sleeve Henley that looked like it was about to burst at the seams. Stiles might have been considering if he could make it happen through sheer will alone.

“Who’s with Derek?” Leigh clarified, “because if he’s single, you should be climbing all that like a tree.”

Stiles blinked back at her, his mouth agape.

“Who are you and what have you done to Leighann? Sweet, innocent, Leighann?”

“What? Blame yourself, you've finally started to rub off on me” Leigh laughed at him, “Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking the exact same thing anyway. You’re looking at him like you don’t know whether you want to eat him up or have him do the same to you.”

Stiles felt the blush crawling up his neck. Looking at him, Leigh laughed harder. He was saved from her mocking when Peter appeared, guiding Duke to his table.

“Ha! Well, I gotta go,” he mumbled, inching past Leigh in a rush to get away form her teasing “Duty calls”

“Stiles! Wait!” Leigh called out, her eyes sparkling with mirth, “You forgot the glasses!”

Stiles swore under his breath and grabbed two glasses before hurrying away, Leigh’s renewed laughter ringing in his ears.

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“Well, hello there, Mr. Stilinksi,” Duke’s smooth voice greeted.

“Hey Duke! How could you even hear it was me with all this noise?” Stiles asked.

“You’re the only one here who stumbles around like a drunken honey bee,” Duke responded with a smile.

Peter laughed, “Did you remember the glasses, Stiles?”

Stiles handed them over to Peter, who poured the drinks.

“So, Stiles, it’s been what? Almost two years since I saw you last?” Duke asked.

“Yeah, just about,” Stiles said, propping himself on the arm of the sofa near Duke.

“So what have you been up to? How is school?” the man asked, wrapping a hand around Stiles’ arm.

“School’s great. Almost done. One more year to go. I would have finished early if I wasn't double majoring.” Stiles reported.

“Wonderful, keep up the good work!” Duke praised him, “Peter’s told me you've gotten even taller and that you've let your hair grow out again. I have no idea what possessed you to ever go back to that buzz cut. From what I hear, you’re absolutely adorable with your bed head.”

Duke reached up as if to ruffle his hair so Stiles moved his head into the man’s touch. Duke had been blinded during a terrible accident when he was young but it never stopped him. Most certainly not when it came to business. He had been Talia Hale’s friend and after her passing, he’d joined Peter to keep Howl open but he also had made several other profitable investments, making him a considerable amount of money.

Duke gave his hair a playful tug before letting go and taking his glass from Peter.

“Well, whenever you’re ready just give me a call. I can always use a bright mind at the office.”

“Stop trying to steal my employees, Deucalion,” Peter admonished, “Enough business talk, let’s enjoy the show.”

The two men settled in and Stiles made to leave. He got as far as the rail when Laura’s voice sounded over the mic.

“You all have been incredible! We want to dedicate this next song to everyone here at Howl for all their help, especially one person in particular. This one’s for you, Batman.”

Stiles threw his head back and laughed. He’d almost forgotten the napkin drawing he’d left for the band. He’d drawn the band members as stick figure action heroes who were dying from dehydration until he, as Batman, came to their rescue with his tray.

He leaned against the rail as Laura started to sing...

_You saw an angel, baby, but it was a trick of the light_  
 _Look a little closer, sweetie, I’m a creature of the night._  
 _You were the virgin, darling, and I was the beast._  
 _You laid yourself open, baby, and I ravished the feast…_

_I wish I knew how to love ya!_  
 _When I’m screaming your name, riding above ya!_  
 _But I’m just made of ash and stone,_  
 _I’ll cut you down to blood and bone._  
 _I’ll cut you down to blood and bone._

The rest of the song was lost on him when Derek looked up, caught his eye, and held. He looked like sex embodied and his gaze was so hot that Stiles felt like he would spontaneously combust. Stiles bit down on his bottom lip to keep any possibly pornographic sound effects from leaving his mouth. Derek seemed to track the motion, his eyes widening slightly, before his tongue darted out to lick at his own lip.

A harsh breath left Stiles as he imagined sinking his teeth into Derek’s lips instead of his own. The image caused him to grip the rail tight and he broke his gaze with Derek as a full body flush erupted across his skin. Turning around and leaning back against the rail, he took a deep breath. Derek Hale would be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made the previous chapter a little shorter and put it here along with some new stuff...sorry if you've already read it!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> PS. Original lyrics finally!!!!!!!! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are in italics and are from Carry You Home by James Blunt

Fortunately the rest of the night passed by uneventfully. Stiles knew that the Staff had worked hard to make sure nothing untoward went down during Deucalion’s visit. While he might seem friendly enough, he was known to be a ruthless businessman and it was only his history with the Hales that kept him from rescinding his investment in Howl, which had had a few rocky months.

Everyone had pitched in to clean the place up and had mostly headed out. Peter had asked Stiles to stay back, promising him a ride home later. Stiles had agreed and was waiting on Peter, making one last sweep of the bar to make sure everything was ready for the following night. He decided to check the backstage area because he knew Scott and Greenberg usually forgot to change out the trash bag back there.

He pushed past the curtains and walked up the stairs, pulling out his cell phone to light up the way. He was surprised to find the area illuminated, a dull glow casting his way from a solitary bulb near the stage. He walked towards it, shaking his head at Scott for leaving it on, but stopped dead in his tracks when the first note was struck.

In front of him, sitting on a rickety bar chair, sat Derek slowly strumming an acoustic guitar. Unlike his flashy black guitar that he used during shows, this one looked old and weathered, used and loved. Stiles took a step back into the shadows not wanting to interrupt Derek. He watched silently as Derek’s fingers nimbly played a few chords.

His own mouth dropped open when Derek opened his and began to sing quietly. Stiles was entranced immediately by his voice. It was soft yet powerful, masculine yet not too deep, beautiful but hauntingly broken. Derek’s head was bowed, his shoulders fallen, all the normal swagger Stiles was used to seeing in him, gone.

_Strong as you were, tender you go._

_I’m watching you breathing for the last time._

_A song for your heart,_

_But when it is quiet_

_I know what it means_

_And I’ll carry you home._

_I’ll carry you home._

Stiles breath was caught in his lungs, his mouth bone dry like he was close to choking on his tongue. His heart hammered almost painfully in his chest. Whether it was Derek’s voice or the song he was singing, it struck a raw nerve in Stiles. He could feel the tears prickle his eyes as he was forced to think of the one thought he tried to push away above all others, _Her_.

For all of his babbling, it was the one thing he never spoke of. Sometimes when he was alone at night Stiles wondered if the reason he talked so much and so quickly was to keep his mind from wondering back to thoughts of his mother. Thoughts that were still too painful to deal with even after all these years. And something about the pain, the sense of loss in Derek’s voice, was bringing it all back to him at once.

_If she had wings she would fly away_

_And another day, God will give her some._

_Trouble is, the only way is down,_

_Down, down…_

Derek tilted his head back towards the ceiling his eyes closed. His fingers never missed their mark. Even in the dim light, Stiles could see a single teardrop make its way out from under Derek’s closed lashes and run somberly down his cheek. He had never seen him look so open and vulnerable. It was a knife in his already aching heart.

_And they were all born pretty in New York City tonight,_

_And someone’s little girl was taken from the world tonight…_

Derek’s voice caught, almost breaking, and instinctively Stiles took a step forward. Derek’s eyes remained closed and his breathing was ragged. His brow was furrowed with a pain that clearly wasn't physical. Everything in Stiles, urged him to go to the man. He didn't stop until he was standing directly in front of Derek, just a few feet away. So close that he could just reach out…

It was like a crash of thunder in the small space as Stiles’ foot connected with an empty metal can, sending it skidding across the floor. Stiles jerked his arm back almost violently. Derek’s eyes snapped open and he bolted upright from the chair. The startled look on his face was quickly replaced by the always slightly angry look he wore as a mask. Stiles watched him, not daring to speak, afraid what his voice would sound like.

“What are you doing here?” Derek’s voice was husky and hard.

“I-I-I was just coming to take out the garbage…” Stiles stuttered.

“Well, I’ll just be out of your way then,” Derek growled, scooping up the guitar and pushing past Stiles, heading back out through the curtain.

“Derek! Wait!” Stiles called, finally finding his voice.

Derek stopped but didn't turn.

“I-You-that was beautiful,” he finally decided on, “your voice is incredible. Why don’t you ever sing with the band?”

Derek was quiet for a long moment, “I don’t sing,” he stated flatly.

“Err, then what would you call what you were just doing? Breathing out melodically? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that’s what singing is…”

Did Stiles ever mention that sometimes he just let words stream out of his mouth when he wasn't sure what to say? Yes? Oh good. Because that’s exactly what was happening right then.

“I mean, I don’t sing on stage, not anymore, not in a long time,” Derek responded, his shoulders sagging visibly.

“But you should!” Stiles voice cried out, “A voice like that should be shared with the masses so that we can fall to our knees and adore you, worship you from our rightful place before you.” Stiles nearly slapped a hand to his mouth realizing how that must’ve come across.

He thought he heard Derek huff but then very quietly came,

“I-I just can’t,” and with that he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter than usual chapter but I really wanted to post this ASAP because I'm kind of in love with everything about it...
> 
> Hope you like it!


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles got into work extra early the next day. Saturdays were his favorite day to work since the clientele tended to be a little bit younger. He often found himself serving people he’d gone to high school with and Peter didn't make a big deal if the staff joined in on the fun as long as their work was getting done as well. And since drinks were bar only (unless you got table service), he, Allison, and Lydia could get away with slacking off a bit. 

After his run in with Derek last night, he was ready for a bit of fun. The whole week had been hectic and utterly draining, of both his energy and the copious amount of a certain bodily fluid he’d expunged moaning the name of one mysterious guitar player. He’d dreamt of Derek last night when he’d finally managed to fall asleep. All heated touches and broken moans, Derek’s voice playing through his head like a soundtrack. He’d woken up covered in sweat and sticky, unable to go back to sleep.

Luckily, the band wasn't scheduled to be playing that night so Stiles didn't have to worry about running into Derek again. He wasn't sure that Derek would react too well to his presence after yesterday nor did he know if he could look Derek in the eye without remembering the way it had felt for Derek to hold him down and fuck into him mercilessly in his dreams.

Even the memory of his dreams were enough to make him feel overheated and like his palms were sweating. Shaking his head, he set off to check inventory before his shift. Peter had asked him to take charge of it last night. He wanted to see how Stiles would be able to handle added responsibility and had cryptically hinted at a possible promotion for Stiles in the future if and when the bar picked up. 

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Stiles could feel the vibration of the music move through him as if it was running though his veins, beating in time with his heart. As expected, the bar was full of young twenty-somethings getting their drink on and gyrating to the music the twins were mixing out. Stiles was shimmying through the crowd, earning a few high fives and naughty winks on the way. 

He had a nice buzz going through his body having downed two shots with Lydia early on in the night. A cheer rose up around the bar as he reached it and he saw Danny whipping his shirt over his head and climbing up over the bar. He sat on it and let his legs dangle apart, where a young, nervous-looking girl wearing a sparkly tiara and a sash was all but shoved between them by her cheering friends. 21st birthday, Stiles realized and grinned. Danny had a particular way of making anyone’s 21st birthday especially memorable by allowing them to take body shots off of him. 

The girl looked like she was about the throw up from all the attention-or possibly all the shots she’d already had-when Danny leaned down and whispered something encouraging in her ear. She nodded to him slowly with a soft smile when he pulled back and Danny reclined against the bar, exposing his toned torso.

Over his shoulder, Jackson put a cube of ice on each shoulder blade and let them run down the cuts of Danny’s chest and abs, a trail the ended with the water pooling at his belly button, which he wiped off with a tissue. At Danny’s motion, the girl lowered her mouth to his abs. He crooked an eyebrow at her and she seemed to remember that she forgotten the salt. She licked a quick stripe up his stomach, causing Danny to grin at her, dimples at maximum wattage. He nodded to her again and she resumed her position just as Jackson poured a shot’s worth of tequila down Danny’s chest, which followed the same path the ice had taken. 

Stiles joined in with the cheering as the girl collected the liquid and stood triumphantly. Danny wiped off his chest and hopped off the bar to give her a hug and a quick peck to the forehead. The poor girl looked dazed but happy and Stiles couldn't help but remember his own 21st not so long ago when he’d done the same shot, not only off of Danny, but pretty much everyone at the bar. It had been a night to remember-well, what he could remember of it anyway.

Stiles made his way around the bar as Peter handed off a complimentary drink to the now blushing birthday girl. Peter smiled at him before pouring two shots and handing one over to him. They knocked their glasses together momentarily before throwing back the shots. The liquid burned Stiles throat in a way that was almost delicious. Peter offered him a slice of lemon but he shook his head. 

“I need you to take this to Table 9,” Peter yelled to him over the music, pushing a bucket containing a bottle of Jack Daniels and two carafes of mixers at him.

Stiles nodded, grabbing the stuff and making to push his way through the crowd again. When he arrived at the table he saw that Leigh was already there talking to a brunette who had her back to him. Leigh caught his eye and motioned him over, smiling. The brunette turned on her heel and squealed, bounding at him clearly intoxicated,

“Stiles!!!” Laura gushed, throwing herself bodily into his arms. 

He barely had time to move the bucket out of her way so he didn't end up dropping it. Leigh rushed to take everything from his hands as Laura continued to squish him in a bear hug, which he awkwardly returned once his hands were free.

“Heeey, Laura,” he patted her head.

“Oh Stiles, I’m so so glad you’re here. Nobody wants to dance with me’n’erica. They’re party poopers!”

She punctuated her words by sticking her tongue out at the other people sitting at the table, whom Stiles recognized quickly as being the rest of the band. So much for avoiding Derek. He waved at them from around Laura, who was still attached to him like a barnacle. His eyes met Derek’s for a second before he looked away.

“Aww, you don’t need them. Why don’t you and Erica just hit the floor? I’m sure you’ll attract a whole crowd that will wanna dance with you two ,” he offered, “Where is Erica anyway?”

He got his answer in the form of boobs pressing up against his back and another pair of arms winding around his waist, Erica’s curls tickling the back of his neck.

“Noooooo way, Batman. We don’t waaaaanna dance with strangers,” Erica whined, stretching her syllables drunkenly, “Won’t you pretty pretty pretty please dance with us?”

“I would love to, “ he said, trying to extricate himself from the grip of the two women, ”but I've gotta work, Catwoman.”

Erica crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip trembling slightly. He had to admit, it was a good puppy face, but he’d grown up with Scott, the master of all puppy faces, so Erica’s wasn't going to work on him. Laura, however, cocked her hip to one side and stared him down.

“Nah-uh, Peter said you would get us whatever we wanted and we want you to dance with us so you’re going!” She insisted.

In all honesty, Stiles could probably go with them but he wanted to get as far away from Derek as soon as possible. He looked to Leigh for help but she just smirked at him and shook her head.

“They have a point, Stiles,” She laughed, “And don’t I remember you saying something about how you wanted to have a little fun tonight?”

“Traitor,” he hissed at her as the two girls whooped victoriously and started pulling him towards the dance floor.

Leigh tilted her head back and laughed. She leveled him with a meaningful glance before casting her gaze over to Derek, whose own gaze was unconsciously fixated on Stiles.

“Oh come on, Stiles,” she added, “why not show the girls what you can do? Everyone in here knows that no one can shake their ass quite like you. Maybe some people will find it…inspiring.”

Derek cut his eyes to her and Leigh just gave him a smug, shit-eating grin in return. One of her eyebrows slightly rose as if challenging him to tell her she was wrong. Seemingly accepting defeat, he looked away and down at the floor, the tips of his ears just a little bit more pink than they had been before the exchange. Stiles just shook his head at Leigh’s ballsiness. The pair on that girl were brazen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter I think? Who even knows anymore. This fic has totally gotten away from me and become a behemoth of its own...Just you wait 'til the next chapter if you don't believe me.
> 
> Hope you enjoy...cuz really, who doesnt want to take a shot off of Danny?!?!?


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles found himself being led out to the dance floor and just decided to go along with it. They stayed on the edge of the crowd, nearest to the table. He tried to find his rhythm and he wouldn’t dare complain considering he was being sandwiched by two of the most attractive women in the place. He closed his eyes and let the music flow over him, the warm buzz in his body from the alcohol acting like a lubricant.

Erica had already attracted attention on the dance floor and was quickly whisked away despite her earlier protests about not wanting to dance with strangers. _Obviously Boyd was not the jealous type_ , Stiles thought shaking his head a little at where Erica was dancing between a couple.  He turned to Laura, who seemed a lot distracted and a little distressed that Isaac was caught up in a conversation with Boyd and Leigh.

“Hey, forget them, let’s get this party started,” he reassured her with a smile.

She nodded and took his outstretched hand. He spun her around so that her back was flush with his chest, and brought one of her arms to wrap around his neck. He grabbed her low on the waist with both hands, bringing her close to him. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. Notching his chin over her shoulder, he brought his mouth down close to her ear.

“Ready?” he asked mischievously.

Laura shot him a confused look over her shoulder but before she could say anything, Stiles rolled his hips into her and thrust up just shy of forcefully. Laura took in a sharp breath, the confused look on her face turning into one of awe, before she laughed out loud.

“You've been holding out on us, Stiles,” she whispered excitedly, “You never told me you could move like that.”

“You never asked,” he grinned cheekily and began to dance in earnest, letting his body move to the music.

Laura eventually got over her stupor and responded, moving with him. What Stiles lacked in everyday coordination, he more than made up for on the dance floor. He loved the way his body responded to music, his heart pounding in time with the bass. Laura tilted her head up to look at him.

“We have an audience,” she said breathily, gesturing towards the table where Boyd, Isaac, Derek and Leigh were now watching them.

Well to be honest, Boyd was watching Erica dance with an amused look on his face. Isaac had his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth turned down in a pout. Leigh was looking at the men like they were simultaneously the most entertaining thing in the whole world and the most idiotic, especially Derek. Because there Derek sat, his body stiff as if ready to pounce, his eyes afire, trained directly on Stiles and Laura.

“Well, let’s give them a little show shall we?” he responded wickedly, turning their bodies so the table had an unobstructed view of them.

He spun Laura once again so that they were face to face. He pulled her in close, leaving no room between them, and began to move again. Stiles let one hand drift down the small of her back so it was all but resting on her ass. The other hand he drew up her back slowly, bringing it to the nape of her neck and holding her there. He knew they were still being watched and one pair of eyes weighed on him more heavily than the others.

Stiles gently fisted his hand in Laura’s hair, causing her head to tilt back slightly causing her to exhale raggedly. He brought their foreheads together, so that they were eye to eye. If it weren't for the soft curves under his hands, he almost could forgotten which Hale he was currently dancing with.

Laura’s hands found their way into his hair. He gave her a lusty wink before moving his body against hers, snapping his hips as the movement reached his groin. He let his hands roam down her body, hers falling around his neck as they undulated in time with the music. He was vaguely aware of the catcalls and appreciative whistles coming from around them. Laura let her head fall back and he dipped her lower, bringing one of her legs to wrap around his waist. He bent his head, chasing the line of her neck with the tip of his nose, his mouth open so that his breath tickled her neck.

Laura let out a small noise and Stiles smiled. When he reached the indent where neck met collarbone, Stiles turned his head just slightly so he could see the table. He knew what he and Laura must have looked like on the dance floor. _He may or may not have had a Hungry Eyes a la Dirty Dancing moment with Peter and Leigh back when he was an uncoordinated mess of a teenager, before they had taken pity on him and taught him how to dance. Sex on Vinyl Flooring, Leigh had called it once._

Isaac looked like he was ready to storm over to them and punch Stiles in the face. That or claim Laura right there on the dance floor, which honestly needed to happen anyway if it wasn't already, but Stiles hoped he could make it happen without getting punched for his troubles. Stiles’ eyes locked on Derek. His body was taut, his hands fisted by his sides. His eyes were blown open, his mouth slightly dropped open, and he was no longer trying to hide the fact that he was openly staring at them- _no, at Stiles._ Stiles let his tongue dart out and wet his lips. Derek’s body shuddered pleasantly at the sight and Stiles knew he had won.

He sent a sly smile in Derek’s direction before returning his attention to Laura and bringing her back upright. She had been looking over at the table too but turned to face him after a moment.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Stiles, you…how do you even?...that was hot, so hot” she whispered, her face flushed, “Would you look at Derek! I think you broke my brother.”

“And Isaac looks about ready to rip my throat out,” Stiles whispered back, “with his teeth. You’re welcome by the way.”

“What?” Laura screeched, before catching the death glare that Isaac was currently leveling at Stiles, “Oh my God, he totally does! I love you!”

The two watched as Leigh leaned down to say something to Boyd and Isaac. Boyd nodded and smiled, standing and pulling Isaac with him. Isaac’s murder stare hadn't quite left Stiles yet so he was mostly being dragged behind Boyd.

“They’re coming over here,” Laura gushed, “I sound like a fucking teenage girl but I don’t believe it. Isaac almost never dances. Ever. You are a fucking genius! Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Bet ya he never lets you loose on a dance floor without him again,” Stiles chuckled at Laura’s enthusiasm, which by this point had her nearly jumping up and down on her toes.

He handed Laura over to Isaac with a little bow when they reached him. Isaac glared at him and nearly snatched Laura’s hand out of his before pulling her close to him. Boyd chuckled beside him.

“Nice moves out there, Stiles,” he intoned quietly, patting Stiles on the shoulder.

“Thanks, man,” Stiles enthused.

“You know, I don’t think Isaac was the only one who was…affected,” Boyd told him, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, “But if you’ll excuse me, I need to go extricate my girlfriend before she starts an orgy.”

Stiles watched Boyd make his way to Erica, who squealed delightedly before throwing herself on him. Boyd’s words finally processed and Stiles looked over the table in time to see Leigh whisper something in Derek’s ear that caused his eyes to widen in surprise. Then she stood and left.

Derek looked dumbfounded for a second or two before his regular grumpy expression resumed its regularly scheduled programming on his face. After a second, he shook his head and poured a shot down his throat. He got up too but headed in the opposite direction. Stiles was slightly disappointed so he turned back to survey the crowd, bopping along with the music.

He could see Scott and Allison on the edge of the dance floor a ways down, lost in their own little world. Over by the bar, Danny and Peter were showing off and spinning bottles while they poured drinks. Off to the side, Jackson grabbed Lydia’s face and kissed her, if only to keep her from destroying the drunk girl who had just slipped something into Jackson’s back pocket. Stiles grinned and decided he should probably get back to work.

He took a few steps back and collided with a tower of muscle, a strong arm clamped on his hip to keep him from falling. Looking over his shoulder, he was happily surprised to see who was behind him.

“We've got to stop meeting like this,” he grinned at Derek.

“Doesn't seem likely unless you magically stop being clumsy,” Derek deadpanned.

“No can do,” Stiles responded, “I was born this way. Now did you come over here to insult me over my lack or coordination or to dance?”

Derek didn't respond, not vocally anyway. He just raised his eyebrows and used the hand that was on Stiles to move him back towards the dance floor where the others were. Once there, Stiles couldn't resist.

“How do you want me?” he teased, looking at Derek over his shoulder.

Derek drew in a sharp breath and let his palm slide across Stiles stomach, effectively holding him in place.

“Like this,” Derek gritted out, “…for now.”

This time it was Stiles turn to shudder.

“Fine by me,” he said, grabbing Derek’s other hand and bringing it around him.

Stiles let his head fall back onto Derek’s shoulder and was pleased to find out that there wasn't much of a height difference between them. Derek always looked so looming that Stiles had just assumed he was much shorter than Derek. He and Derek began to sway to the music, not really minding the faster beat of the song.

Stiles let Derek take the lead. Whereas Stiles was mostly all hips and thrust on the dance floor, Derek actually moved them. For being so massive, he was fluid behind Stiles. Once Stiles picked up on his rhythm, he began to move against Derek, pressing back at the exact moment that Derek pressed forward.

Derek’s touch was like electricity against Stiles’ skin. Every point of contact tingled. Every move Derek made against him, Stiles felt down to his bones. They were pressed so tightly together that Stiles could feel every breath Derek took, could feel the pounding of his heart in his chest, was sure Derek could feel his doing the same.

The hand Derek had on his stomach drifter lower, his fingertips tracing the line of Stiles’ belt. Stiles gasped and arched into the touch, causing his shirt to ruck up on his stomach. The feel of Derek’s fingers skating over the exposed skin of his belly was almost too much, too good. When he began to draw his thumb up and down the dark patch of hair that lay low on Stiles’ stomach, Stiles was pretty sure he stopped breathing.

He knew Derek must’ve felt it and was obviously pleased with the reaction he was getting out of Stiles. Derek moved his face to Stiles’ neck, nuzzling the sensitive area behind ear. The heat of his breath prickled along Stiles’ skin, causing him to erupt in goose bumps.

Stiles shuddered as if a chill ran through him. He thought he heard Derek make a low rumbling sound in his chest, but he was too far gone to really notice. He closed his eyes, the alcohol in his system making his head spin pleasurably. Everything else faded to black and there was Derek, only Derek. The strong wall of heat behind him, the hands tracing delicate patterns over his skin, the stubbled chin running over the sensitive parts of his neck. His jeans were beginning to feel deliciously tight as he stirred against them.

“Still with me?” the dulcet voice sounded right into his ear.

Stiles couldn't respond except to nod.

“Good,” Derek said, “I must be doing something right if you're being this quiet.”

Stiles just nodded again and Derek chuckled softly. Derek’s hand, which had been holding steadily at Stiles’ hip, dropped low on his thigh. He squeezed lightly and dragged his hand back up Stiles’ leg, his hand passing dangerously close to where Stiles was now straining against the fabric of his jeans. Derek let out a rugged breath.

“Stiles,” he sighed out, his voice wrecked.

Stiles wasn't ready for the explosion of feelings and sensory input that came from Derek saying his name. The part of his brain that was still working (barely, he might add) was grateful that he was no longer a teenager because he would've undoubtedly come right there in his pants from that alone. He clearly wasn't the only one affected. He felt Derek shift slightly behind him before bringing himself back in to Stiles hard. Stiles could feel Derek’s own hardness digging into him and it was enough to cause a quiet moan to slip past his lips.

He reached behind him to grip Derek’s powerful thighs, squeezing hard. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, honestly, and he was sure that Derek wasn't too far behind him. Gathering up his courage, he tilted his head back so he was looking Derek in the face. Their eyes locked and held, whiskey brown meeting stormy seas. Their noses were so close they were almost brushing against each other. They breathed in each other’s air for one moment, then another, then they were both moving forward to close the space between them…

Before a body came crashing into them from in front of Stiles. It would have knocked them both over if not for Derek somehow managing to hold his footing. Snapped rudely from the moment, Stiles found himself with an armful of obviously very drunk and giggling Erica. Boyd appeared behind her just a moment later, looking like he had been chasing behind her. The look on his face was a cross between an apology and amusement.

Stiles handed Erica off to Boyd, only then realizing that the coldness he felt against his back was from a distinct lack of Derek. He turned and saw that Derek had moved away from him in the confusion and was staring hard at the floor, trying to readjust his pants. Stiles cleared his throat, unsure of what to say.

“Ehrm, so…” he trailed off.

Derek’s face snapped up to look at him, a bright pink rising in his face to the tip of his ears. Of course, that was the moment when Stiles’ brain decided not to provide him with its usual rush of words. Nothing, he had nothing. He cleared his throat again, glancing down at the floor. When he looked back up, Derek had turned and was walking away quickly. Stiles watched him disappear into the crowd and sighed.

 _His luck fucking sucked_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter came out as good as it was playing through my head because WOW!
> 
> Also dedicating this one to Lidil for being awesome and all the wonderful encouragement!
> 
> PS. Stiles and Laura danced to "Summertime Sadness" by Lana Del Rey (Cedric Gervais RMX) and Stiles and Derek danced to "All Shook Up" by Avila (Damien Dane 'Scared to Death' Remix)...listen while reading, trust me...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. The new job is keeping me super busy and when I'm not there I'm exhausted! Have a little something-something for putting up with me...hopefully I'll get a chunk done over the wkend.
> 
> Italics are there for a reason, that's all I'll say...
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> XOXO, Tina

_A wanton moan slipped past his lips before he could choke it back.  Stiles bit down hard on his bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the pillowy softness.  Another soft moan left him at the sting, his tongue darting over the bite marks Derek had left there mere moments ago._

_The dull edge of the bar dug into his back as Derek’s weight pressed him back against it.  He was perched on the very edge of one of the bar stools.  His legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as the solid mass of the older man pushed up against him, the only thing keeping him balanced as he was._

_Derek was a line of heat down his front, slotted in place between his legs.  His hands ran feverishly up and down the sides of Stiles’ thighs, his mouth was sin against the smooth skin of Stiles’ neck.  Fisting his hands roughly in the material he rucked up Stiles’ shirt, exposing a patch of pale skin.  He let the very tips of his fingers ghost over the feverish skin.  Stiles jumped at the contact and the coolness of Derek’s touch._

_Stiles’ own fingers were twined in the silken darkness of Derek’s hair.  His knew his grip was far from gentle.  As Derek’s stubble scraped across his collarbone Stiles shuddered violently, causing his body to press impossibly closer to Derek where he could feel Derek’s enthusiasm rock hard against his own._

_Derek gasped in surprise and claimed Stiles’ mouth harshly with his own, kissing him so hard it was almost painful.  He caught Stiles’ lip between his teeth tugging lightly before bringing the kiss deeper.  Stiles used his tongue to invade Derek’s mouth, mapping the shape of it eagerly.  Neither pulled away until Stiles felt his head start to swim._

_He trailed a line of hot kisses along Derek’s strong jaw and down his neck.  Derek’s hands flexed involuntarily against his back, his fingernails digging into Stiles.  Stiles used the tip of his tongue to swipe a quick line up the side of Derek’s neck._

_Derek rumbled low in his chest, springing forward to attack Stiles’ neck.  Wet kisses and sharp teeth reduced Stiles to a whimpering mess in Derek’s arms.  Derek nudged Stiles’ chin and Stiles let his head fall back, exposing the long line of his throat to Derek’s ministrations.  Derek bit across his collarbone as Stiles let his hands roam over Derek’s chest._

_Just as Stiles felt like he would fall apart without…something, more, anything…Derek rocked his hips into Stiles giving him the contact he so desperately needed.  Stiles groaned out loud, not even bothering to hide his enthusiasm.  The confinement of his jeans was nearly painful in the most perfect way.  Impatient, he thrust up against Derek seeking out the delicious friction again and again._

_Derek responded in kind.  He shifted slightly bringing his thigh in tight to Stiles’ hard length.  His lips found Stiles’, effectively sealing them together from tip to toe, as he bucked against him._

_Stiles rode Derek’s thigh shamelessly, Derek mirroring his every movement.  Their breath turned to desperate gasps, their kisses to clashes of teeth and lips as each came undone.  Finally, Stiles felt a delicious tightness curling low in his stomach and he jerked his hips haphazardly causing his stool to rock on its legs, its repeated pounding against the floor of the bar simultaneously wonderful and obscene._

_Stiles’ hips stuttered as his orgasm took him, feeling as though it was coming up from his toes and reverberating throughout his entire body…_

He sat up in his bed with a shout, Derek’s name filthy on his tongue as he rode out his orgasm to completion, a dark wet spot blooming against the fabric of his boxers.  Cursing, he fell back into bed sweat-slicked and ruined.  This was the third day in a row he’d been awakened in this manner and yep, it was about time to call it, Stiles could admit when he was in trouble…and this, this was nothing short of turmoil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first attempt at something smutty and damn, it was way harder to write than I thought it would be...hope I did it justice. Let me know what you think (comments, kudos, show your love, yes?).
> 
> Anywho, off to bed I go...to sleep, perchance to dream...of Stiles and Derek and how the rest of this fic is going to go...


	11. Chapter 11

Beads of sweat dripped down his face. His heart thudded in his chest, and his muscles were burning as he gulped down air greedily.  Still, he kept running, keeping his pace over the uneven ground, pushing himself harder and further.

Running was something Stiles had discovered in high school.  His coach had made them run cross-country in the lacrosse off-seasons.  At first, he had hated it and had hardly been able to go a hundred feet before wanting to collapse on the ground.  Somewhere along the way, he’d literally found his stride. 

Running became an almost daily activity for him.  He would head out early in the morning when it was still quiet out and head down to the Preserve where he could chase down his runner’s high unperturbed.  He had a usual route now, one that he could probably run with his eyes closed (and probably had run with his eyes closed a fair number of times, to be honest)

His route generally took him past the old Hale house, or what was left of it anyway.  He would usually pause there to catch his breath before heading back.  It was quiet out there, peaceful.  Sometimes he would sit in the clearing and just look up at the old house, wondering what it had been like before the fire. 

The longer he looked, the more vividly his imagination would provide a better picture of the house, freshly painted and full of life.  He could almost see the entire family gathered around the large house, could almost hear the laughter as children ran around the grounds.  It was almost like the ghosts of the past were willing him to remember what long lay forgotten in memory.

That morning was no exception.  He collapsed on the ground of the clearing, gulping air greedily and enjoying the burn in his muscles.  He’d pushed himself harder, faster, trying to shake off whatever spell had its hold on him.  Stiles tried to convince himself that his reaction to Derek was purely physical.  That he could deal with.  That was nothing new to him.  The first few months of his freshman year in college would've made great ratings on late night cable; _Stiles Does Stanford_ , a tribute to the classics.

But no matter how hard he tried, Stiles just couldn't buy the lies he was trying to feed himself and he was a pretty good liar.  Obviously, he found Derek attractive.  And yes, having Derek within a 50-foot radius left him harder than an escape from Alcatraz.  And for fuck’s sake, if he had to touch his own dick one more time there would definitely be _chafing_ , and he might possibly just implode.  But despite all of that, in the pit of his stomach, Stiles knew there was something else there.  Something more.

And that he didn't know what to do with.  That’s not to say that Stiles hadn't ever been in a relationship before.  Actually he’d been in a few, one or two of them kind of serious.  And he’d pretty much worshiped Lydia for as long as he could remember.  But none of those had ever left him feeling so…unsettled.

There was just something about Derek.  The way he’d gone from outright scowling at Stiles like he wanted to eat him…to seeking him out on the dance floor and pressing against him like he’d settle for ravishing him instead.  And there was something about the way there were together.  A few witty exchanges, a handful of too long glances, a stolen moment where Derek had shown his vulnerability to Stiles, few minute touches that carried more weight than all the words in the human language…Stiles could go on, for like an hour.  It was just too much to deny, to write off as consequence…it all had to mean something…right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short...things have been so hectic. But never fear, I will be finishing this fic...updates may just be a bit slow. 
> 
> But you know, somethings are just worth the wait...


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! I'm back! And I'm finally going to finish this fic so help me sweet baby Jesus.
> 
> So I made this chapter a little longer because it just works better with what is coming up...and let me tell you, there are GREAT things ahead for this fic. I will really try to update weekly, sooner if I can. i think its time I finish this up.
> 
> But thank you all so much for bearing with me and I hope that you all enjoy!
> 
> XOXO

Stiles sat on the ground in front of the Hale house, his back resting against the base of a large tree. His eyes were closed as he listened to his breathing slow and felt his heart returning to a slower tempo in his chest. He was so caught up in his thoughts (Derek, Derek wet, Derek dripping with sweat) that he didn’t notice the figure approaching him from the opposite side of the Hale house.

It wasn’t until the shadow of the man was upon him and blocking out the sunlight that Stiles pried open one eye to take in the view in front of him. Derek stood before him, his head slightly cocked to one side, a small smirk across his face.

“You do know this is private property?” he asked.

“Well look at you trespassing,” Stiles joked, “such a rebel.”

“Kinda hard to trespass on your own property.” Derek’s smirk grew into a grin, “you on the other hand…”

“I’ll have you know that I have the express permission of one Peter Hale to be here. And I’m pretty sure the other Hales wouldn’t mind either.”

“No?” Derek queried.

“Nah, they think I’m a delight.” Stiles sassed.

“Is that so?”

“Yup, just ask them. They’ll tell you so themselves.”

“You seem pretty sure of that”

“Oh, but I am”

“All of them? You’re sure? What about the tall, good looking one?”

“You mean Laura? She loves me more than Reese’s Pieces.”

“Now I know you’re lying. Laura doesn't love anyone more than Reese’s Pieces.”

Stiles laughed out loud, enjoying the back and forth banter between him and Derek. He’d never seen this particular side of Derek, and he liked it. Dammit, why’d Derek have to be perfect?

“What are you doing out here anyway?”

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?”

“I run out here,” Stiles said with a shrug, “I usually just stop here to catch my breath before I head back. It’s quiet. Peaceful.”

Derek nodded, moving to lean against the side of tree near Stiles so that both were looking at the glorious ruins.

“I’m glad someone can still feel that way about this place.”

“Yea, about that, I-“ Stiles paused, “my mom died when I was younger. She was in the hospital for a long time. It’s been years but I still feel a kind of heaviness whenever I go to the hospital, you know?”

“Yea,”

Neither spoke for a moment, the silence not uncomfortable really. Finally, Stiles spoke,

“You never did tell me why you were here.”

“I just wanted to see it. Or maybe needed to,” Derek stared at the ground, his hands balled into fists in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Silence settled between them once more. Stiles chanced a look up at Derek’s face and sure enough, the quiet smile had been replaced by the drawn, tight-lipped face that Derek wore altogether too often. Stiles sighed and made to stand, straightening his long legs when Derek dangled a hand in front of him. Surprised, Stiles took the offered hand, allowing Derek to help pull him up. He hoped to every deity in the universe that he was able to school his expression because he was definitely doing a little victory dance in his head. It involved an awful lot of gyrating.

Once upright, Stiles released Derek’s hand. He attempted to brush he dirt off his shorts, missing the way Derek’s eyes tracked the movement.

“You've got a grass stain,” Derek motioned towards Stiles’ rear.

“Dammit!” Stiles swore, twisting to try to see the offending stain on the ass of his pants, “would you judge me if I made an ‘my ass is grass’ joke?”

“Definitely,” Derek deadpanned, “if I wasn't already judging you for chasing your tail.”

Stiles stopped his fidgeting and dropped his basketball shorts, clearing his throat as he stood up. He could feel the burn in his cheeks. One look at Derek showed how clearly amused the older man was, his lips twitching as they fought to keep in a smile.

Stiles cleared his throat again,

“Yea…well, I’m just gonna go head back to my Jeep with what’s left of my pride,” Stiles muttered.

“The blue Jeep parked by the entrance to the Preserve?” Derek asked.

“That’s my baby!” Stiles beamed.

“More like your grandma from the looks of it, “ Derek countered, as Stiles let our an indignant squawk, “I’m parked right behind you. I’ll walk with you.”

Derek’s offer made Stiles momentarily forget his anger over Derek’s slight on his Baby. Sure she’d seen a few rough winters, but she was a warrior. No matter how many times she got banged up, she always got back on her feet again.

Derek gestured for Stiles to lead the way and the two set off. Stiles chattered on and off, about anything and everything. He paused here and there to direct a question at Derek, who answered everything with as little words as possible. No matter though, Stiles was talking enough for the both of them. It’s not that Derek wasn't capable of carrying on a conversation as much as it was that he was too distracted by the view in front of him.

They emerged from the treeline about twenty minutes later. Stiles caught sight of his Jeep and the car parked directly behind it, causing him to stop short in his tracks. Derek walked into him, catching by the waist to keep them both from tumbling forward.

“Stiles, are you OK?”

Stiles turned to face him, his face a mixture of wide-eyed confusion, seriousness, and something Derek couldn't quite place.

“Derek, is that –is that your car?” Stiles asked, in almost a whisper.

“Yea, why? Is something wrong? Did something hit it?” Derek released his hold on Stiles, making to move past him towards the car but, Stiles grabbed his hand before he could move away.

Derek felt a slight tremor go through Stiles hand and a grin split across Stiles’ face. He threw his head back and howled with laughter. Utterly confused, Derek frowned at the younger man, who now had tears running down his face and was turning red from lack of oxygen. One look at Derek’s expression caused Stiles to double over in laughter.

“What the hell, Stiles? What’s so damn funny?”  
Stiles shook his head, trying to contain his mirth and failing gloriously.

“Der-Derek, “he finally gasped out between waves of laughter, “it’s a Toyota! You-you drive a green Toyota!”

“ Yeah, and?” Derek frowned, still not understanding what Stiles found so amusing

“And? And??? And it’s a mom car! I just-Derek Hale, soccer mom- I can’t,” Stiles brushed at the tears streaming down his face, trying to gulp in air, “you look all leather and rock-star and angst but you’re driving around in the Mom-mobile? Oh my God, tell me you drive Erica, Boyd, and Isaac around in that and won’t pull away from the curb until they’re buckled in?”

Derek didn't respond except to frown deeper and Stiles, taking that as admittance, was lost to fits of laughter once again. Extracting his hand from where it was still in Stiles’ grip, Derek moved away towards his car.

“It has great safety ratings, “ he muttered as he moved away.

And damn Stiles’ sensitive hearing, because if it was possible, Derek swore he started laughing harder. Derek pulled out his keys and unlocked his door, leaving Stiles to laugh on the side of the road.

“Wait! Derek, wait! I’m sorry. I just-wow! I was NOT expecting that” Stiles managed, trying to keep his laughter at bay. It caused his face to twitch in the oddest (and most adorable) way. Soon Derek found himself smiling at Stiles, unable to stay mad. They stood for a moment, grinning at each other at each other like idiots.

“it really does have good safety ratings though,” Derek said softly.

Stiles bit his lip to keep from laughing and just nodded his head instead.

“Judging me?” Derek asked.

“So hard,” Stiles admitted, “you have no idea.”

“Yeah, well…” Derek trailed off with a shrug, getting into the car.

“Hey Derek, wait!” Stiles called after him, sucking in a breath when Derek looked up at him, “So you look like you work out.”

Derek did his signature eye-brow quirk, the one he did whenever Stiles managed to say something awkward. It was a look Stiles was quite familiar with, and he’d be lying if he said it didn't do something in his chest that sent his heart skittering.

“A bit,”

“Well, you ever try running?”

“Not on purpose”

“and definitely not in those jeans,” Stiles added earning him a look from Derek, “well if you find yourself wanting to give it a try, I’ll be here tomorrow morning. At 9.”

Derek nodded once, turning his key and starting the car. Stiles made his way back to his Jeep and was just opening the door when he heard,

“Hey Stiles!” he jumped back from the door as he heard his name, “ For what it’s worth, I used to drive a Camaro. Black. Fast.”

“What happened to it?” he asked.

“We were living in New York City and Laura used it to go pick up groceries. She slid on a patch of ice and crashed into a parked truck. The passenger side was totaled. Once I knew she was OK, I traded it in, got this instead.”

Stiles thought for a moment before the pieces fell into place.

”Because of the safety ratings.”

Derek nodded at him once, a sad almost-smile touching the corner of his lips,

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded back, returning Derek’s smile, “So tomorrow?”

“At 9,” Derek confirmed before easing the Toyota back onto the road and driving off.

Stiles watched the car until the brake lights faded into the distance, then hopped into his jeep, shaking his head ruefully. He had no idea how he was going to wait until tomorrow morning.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

By the time Stiles arrived at the Preserve the next morning, he’d already changed his clothes three times and his mind triple that.  Part of him was actually giddy with excitement over the prospect of spending time alone with Derek while the other was petrified he would trip over a tree root and break an ankle in front of him instead.  In the end, he just had to suck it up and make his way to the Preserve.  Maybe Derek wouldn't even show.

All hopes of that were dashed as Stiles pulled his Jeep in behind the Toyota, spotting Derek leaning against the hood of his car.  Stiles let out an almost pained sigh as he took Derek in, dressed down in basketball shorts and a tank top.  His hair was slightly disheveled and he was wearing black, thick-rimmed glasses.  Stiles didn’t think he could be more attracted to Derek but the tightness in his pants was enough to tell him that “adorable nerd” was doing it for him just as much as “musician in leather.”

With one last sigh, Stiles climbed out of his car, sending up a silent prayer to the universe that he didn't pop any awkward boners around Derek.

“Morning,” he greeted, with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

Derek turned his face towards Stiles at a glacial pace, his mouth set into a grim frown.  He grumbled more than spoke in return and shoved a bottle of what looked like chunky green liquid towards Stiles.

“Aww, for me?” Stiles asked, “ you shouldn't have.  No really.  You shouldn't have.  What the hell is this stuff? Hazardous waste?  Is this your way of telling me you don’t want to run?  Cause there were better ways than bringing me a bottle of goo-”

“Green smoothie,” Derek growled, “good for you.”

“-Oh,” Stiles’ mouth formed a perfect ring around the sound “well, err, thanks I guess?”

Derek pushed away from the roof of the car, rolling his eyes as he went, while Stiles turned the bottle upside down watching the sludge-like liquid inch towards the other end of the bottle.  He chucked it under his jeep while Derek’s back was turned.  If he hoped he was being discreet, he failed.

“So,” Stiles jogged to catch up with Derek, who was already making his way into the Preserve, “not much of a morning person, huh?”

Derek only grumbled in response.

“This is gonna be a theme, then? the monosyllabic responses?” Stiles was met with a withering glare, “OK! Lucky for you, I speak caveman and I can keep up a conversation on my own.”

Derek spared Stiles one last look and headed off down the path.

“Right, OK then.  Let’s run, shall we?” Stiles added with gusto, taking off behind Derek so that he could catch up.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Running with Derek was...well...it was something.  The first few times Stiles kept up a running stream of chatter mostly by himself, too afraid that if he stopped talking he would do something embarrassing.  Like declare his utter love for Derek’s backside or wax poetic about the way his eyes were like a prism, reflecting all the colors of the rainbow.

Derek was all but mute  Every now and then he’d turn to glare at Stiles or make a non-committal grunt.  If he minded the real-time narration, he didn't give any indication. So Stiles kept talking.  He talked about everything: what kind of music he listened to, his favorite movies, why Batman was far superior to Superman, the first time he and Scott met after The Great Glue Incident in kindergarten.  Derek was a great listener, he had to give him that. 

Eventually even Stiles ran out of useless things he could tell Derek, much to his surprise. But he kept right on talking.  He told Derek about his Dad and how sometimes he helped him work on his cases, he talked about how sometimes his Dad would fall asleep in his chair after a long day with his whiskey glass dangling from his hand, he talked about the first time he’d ever seen his father drink, right after his mother’s funeral.

He even talked about her-the way she smelled a bit like sugar cookies, and how her eyes crinkled when she laughed, and how she always insisted on putting his work up on the fridge, from his “avant-garde” macaroni art to his C- book report when she first got sick..He  talked about how it had been, spending long days at her side on the narrow hospital be and that one time she had cried when he came to the hospital one day fresh from the barber shop to show her his new buzz cut so that his hair could look like hers.  How whenever he felt himself start to panic, he would just breathe in the scent of her and count the beeps of the heart monitor she was strapped to.  How at the end, she would sometimes call out for his father when he wasn't there but her face would always break into a smile when she saw her baby.

He must have gotten caught up in the memory somewhere along the way because when he came back to himself, Derek was standing in front of him calling his name gently.  Clearly he had said it more than once.  Stiles tried to crack a goofy grin at him, his lips already formed around some half-cocked story about sleep-walking, when Derek silenced him by gripping his arm gently and squeezing.  Such a simple gesture, but in the moment it grounded him.Because Derek knew.  He knew what it was like to lose loved ones, how it leaves a gaping hole in your chest that never really gets filled, you just get used to edging around it or, if you’re lucky, learning how to jump over it.

Derek didn't call Stiles out on the tears running down his face.  He just stayed beside him as they walked back to where they were parked.  And then he opened his mouth,took a deep breath and started talking.  Stiles was so shocked he stopped dead in his tracks for the second time that day.  Derek must have noticed because he stopped abruptly and suddenly found something very interesting on the forest floor, a tell-tale blush rushing up the side of his neck.  It wasn't until Stiles let out a shell-shocked laugh, that Derek looked up at him wide-eyed.  Surprised by Derek's sudden shyness and verbosity, Stiles started to full on laugh.  Derek's eyebrows rose in surprise until they nearly receded into his hairline, which only made Stiles laugh harder.  It must have been infectious because eventually even Derek cracked and joined him.

Something changed that day.  They never spoke about it, but the did start speaking.  About everything and nothing, sometimes at the same time.  Sometimes they snarked at each other or made fun of one another and soon the morning run became the entire morning, became days, became weeks, until summer was just about at an end.  Turns out Derek had been listening the whole time and amongst the treasure store of “Things I now know about Derek Hale” ,the one that always remained at the top was that Stiles was completely and utterly falling for him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cover Songs mentioned:  
> Pat Benatar, We Belong To The Night  
> Halestorm, Dirty Work  
> James Blunt, Carry You Home
> 
> Original lyrics are my own!
> 
> Find Me on Tumblr, TinaTambourina
> 
> XOXO


End file.
